My brain is made up of two to six feral cats fighting each other for control. I’m not lazy across the board. I do some hard things without thinking twice. But other tasks cause the felines to throw down like it’s the FWWE (Feline World Wrestling Extravaganza). You’d think these were big tasks and sometimes they are. Sometimes you’d be wrong. Sometimes I could do whatever it is with less energy than it takes to let the cats scratch it out. Also, my brain would be in better shape. It can’t be good for it to constantly let vicious cats fight in it all day. There must be scars.
Even worse is when I let Scrubs win. Scrubs is one of those alley cats that you shouldn’t feed, because he’s so nasty. Somebody does feed him though. Somebody who feels bad for him. Scrubs is also fat and needs no sympathy when it comes to finding food. Cats have no body issues. If they can get fat, they will and never feel the slightest worry about it. In fact, they may learn to sit on their backs and show off their bellies, like backwards peacocks.
The thing that is most frustrating about Scrubs is he is a scrub. He never wants to do anything productive. He is eager to eat junk. He loves to lounge around all day. He never picks up after himself or does anything he doesn’t feel like doing in the moment. He’d rather fight like hell than do these things. I’d like to have him put down, but can’t. He’s a part of the neighborhood. Sometimes he’s even kind of funny. Also, he seems to be indestructible. There is not an anesthegia on earth that would completely shut him up. In fact, drugs would probably make him more powerful.
Neutralizing Scrubs. Nourishing His Enemies
My only hope is to help his enemies. You wouldn’t know it, but parts of my brain know that I should eat healthy foods, exercise, and create. You should put a dish out for these cats if you see them in your yard. They need all the nourishment they can get as they are terrible fighters. Really. For all their goodness, you’d think they could put up their dukes and fight for their causes a little better.
For instance, I’ve wanted to add strength training to my exercise routine for years. The cat I assigned to that project, Rousey, brings shame to her name. She is declawed and once lived with a little old lady. I think she still creeps into cat doors and snoozes during the day.
Rousey has a sister named Doodlebug (it was cute when she was a kitten and Hemingway would be too pretentious). Doodlebug pushes me to create more. Unfortunately, she’s just like her sister. One sight of Scrubs and she curls up behind the dumpster.
You know how hard it is to herd cats. So hard, they made an old adage out of it. To get these two in shape, I need help. I spent some time digging through my brain looking for all the most basic instincts I own. The ones the cats avoid fighting over, because they’ll lose. In this toolbox, I found my habit of keeping appointments with other people.
I’d like to say I keep appointments that I set for myself. But clearly not. So, I hired a personal trainer. Cheapskate cat fought this one hard. He is scrappy and loud. I only had to shut him long enough to set up recurring dates. It will now be harder for me to cancel than it will be to keep the appointment.
Now, I can focus on The Doodler–my nickname for the little scamp. It’s a slow process. She is shy to top it all off. I’ve convinced her to fight for one hour every morning. I tried one blog post every day, but that takes me too long. I’ve read bloggers say that they bang out a post in an hour, but that sucks the fun out of it. The Doodler likes fun. It motivates her.
After the hour in the morning, I leave her alone. If she wants to come out fine. Make no mistake, I want her to come out, but I don’t push. I’m working on this one hour habit for now. When we get that down, we’ll shoot for more. The ideas part of my brain overflows, but I let it. I’ll clean it up later.