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oh sweet jesus.

my mom just sent me a facebook message:

I’m adopting.

freaked me the fuck out. i mean, i know that she doesn’t have the money to adopt like a kid or something, but my first thought was hey, maybe she’ll finally get the daughter she really wants. har.

and then she said she was getting a kitty.

another kitty.

This doesn’t even really bother me, but then again it does. I’ve had the same cat since 2003. The fat old man is laying, belly up on the floor next to me as i type. Before that i had a cat for about three years but when i moved back home in a failed first-apartment-experiment i had to find a home for her because my dad didn’t want her in the house and she was totally a house cat. declawed and everything. it wouldn’t have worked.

I can’t even count the number of cats she’s adopted and a year or less later had to find another home for because she lost a job, lost a boyfriend, lost… whatever… and had to move.

yeah, they’re just cats. but at the same time…

it that sort of flightiness… instability… inability to commit to the raising of a living thing from birth to death (or independence) that is the aspect that frightens me most about her.

that frightens me when i think i could become her… unless i spend my life forcing myself to commit with a fervor for the commitment itself rather than the cause i’ve chosen.