As a disclaimer: This post is incredibly stupid, and potentially even weird and inappropriate. The thing is, I lack the ability to keep writing posts that boil down to “It’s day blah and I haven’t gotten my period yet.” (Which I haven’t.) And it’s too depressing to write a post about how pillow talk in my bedroom has been reduced to me listing the reasons I do or don’t think I have PCOS or fibroids or whatever else I’ve come up with. So, instead, here’s something dumb that happened today, wherein you learn things about me that you really didn’t need to know.
My weekday morning routine involves going pretty much straight from showering to brushing my teeth. I do not stop to get dressed in between. Yes, I’m nude in this story and that’s a major plot element. I told you it was inappropriate.
The post-shower, still-in-the-bathroom-getting-ready bit of the morning is, like, my cat’s favorite time of day. I’ve tried shutting her out of the room, but she gets very grumpy and loud about it and since I get up before Hubs does, her pitiful crying and/or rattling the door on the hinges wakes him up and then it’s my fault, et cetera. So, I am a total pushover and let her come in and jump up on the counter, where I pet her sporadically while I’m doing my thing.
Yes, I pet the cat while I’m brushing my teeth in the buff. She doesn’t care if I’m nekkid. She’s nekkid too. Whatever. Don’t judge me.
This morning she was being all lovey and sweet, rubbing on my hand and arm and being generally adorable – and then.
She BIT my NIPPLE.
It was more startling than painful, and I was so surprised I spat toothpaste onto the mirror. This feline atrocity was definitely deliberate and calculated. It wasn’t in a “I’m a crazy temperamental cat and I don’t like the way you pet me on that last stroke” way, it was in a “That seems like it would taste good” way.
And then she was like “No, it doesn’t taste good, and it results in my being yelled at and swatted in the head.” So she ran away and I finished brushing my teeth, feeling violated and bewildered. The end.
Ok, not really the end, because I have the crazy brain that wants to put a reproductive spin on everything. So for a second, in which I was incapable of rational thought (apparently), I wondered if that could possibly be a pregnancy sign, like there was a milky/otherwise hormonal scent, because I know breast changes happen early on, and because I know anecdotally that animals can be sensitive to detecting pregnancy, and because, well, I’m on day 44 here. And I realize that’s really, really dumb.
(You can’t even Google that to see if it’s ever happened to anyone else. I promise.)
(Especially not on your work computer.)
In case you’re wondering, there was an in-depth filtering process that this story went through before I decided on definitely posting it:
(Via Facebook chat.)
Me: i need you to tell me if a moderately fucked up story is funny blog fodder or just weird and inappropriate
Zoe: oooh ok, but can you make it quick?
Me: (quick version of above)
Zoe: …i dont see why that would be inappropriate. but, you should bear in mind that my “inappropriate-meter” was blown all to hell some time ago
Me: yeah. well that’s partly why i asked, because i think it’s funny but if you thought there were any red flags, then i’d know it was a problem 🙂