Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety-Jig

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I took about four trips in October overlapping into November. I ended my last trip yesterday evening, and I am so done. I was sitting on my own couch at home this afternoon when I had the jarring suspicion that I didn't know where my body was. Was it on a couch in Winnipeg? Or was it on Jen's couch in Edmonton? As though my body were a thing I could just forget somewhere like a misplaced tube of toothpaste.

I'm not the only one who's happy I'm home. Onion has not left my side all day. He's curled up at my hip, seated next to the toilet when I pee, and padding after me while I make coffee. He's walking back and forth over my arms as I type, running his back and tail across my face. I put on my coat at one point so I could go out to run some errands, and he literally whimpered. When I came back, he was sitting in the exact same spot waiting for my return.

As much as I love all of Onion's attention after missing him while I was gone, there is a problem with the affection: his fur is stuck all over my face in a fine, irritating layer. Imagine if fur could exist in mist form, and then land all over you in an even film with pieces that fluttered in the breeze while you walked, and then you had to spend all day pulling nearly invisible fluff off your cheeks and chin just so you could concentrate on anything else. It's like that. If fur were love, love would be really annoying. Oh, wait. In this case, it is.

My goal right now is to sleep for a second night in a row in my own bed and to accomplish this without wearing a 15-pound cat as a hat. It's a good thing I'm not a gambling man.


I'm writing a post a day in November for BlogHer's NaBloPoMo.