Not a Cat Lady (journal entry)

I don’t call myself a cat lady but there’s one or more strand of our cat’s hair that can be found on my pants even after laundry.

I let my hair dry by the fan as I fold freshly sun-dried clothes and remember the exact moment where I got the foreign specimen on my pants.

I patiently pluck each one as if they were germs feared to breed inside the closet.

I reach my toes out of habit as I sit cross-legged on my bed; blanket spread over the bed sheet, careful not to dirty the other.

Playing with the whites of my toenails, I made a mental note of cutting them—making me remember doing the same just after bath as I toweled myself dry—but then after the clothes. I still have four items to fold, and a grey pair of shorts halfway done.

(Written: 01June2017)