Alone on a Saturday night.

Doesn't that title sound like sadness? The man's band is playing a gig tonight and I decided not to go. I turned down three other invites to do various Saturday night type things because I wanted to spend the evening home alone. I picked up some greek food, put on my snugglies and settled down to read.

I can't concentrate. My brain is not working, so I decide to turn on the television. Ugh, I can't even focus on that.

My dear friend Drake is awaiting a response to not one, but TWO long and past baring emails he sent to me...but I can't muster up the words and I'm incapable of matching or even thinking about what he has told me. I can think about it, but I just don't know what to say. It's not about him of course, it's me.

So where is this great mind wandering to? Where has she gone?

Today, I went to lunch and the restaurant was next to a cat rescue. I gingerly entered this cat refuge and suddenly found myself in this huge room with probably 30 felines wandering about. All of them wanting love and all of them needing homes. (One day, I will be a crazy cat lady.)

I sit amongst all these felines and they're playing with me and I'm giving them love when this tiny blur of black and white pounces into my lap and curls there like he belongs. I look down and there is this darling little face looking up at me and I notice immediately he only has one eye...but I can feel his strong purr against my belly and damn it, I want to bring this cat home.

I talked to the people who worked there, I was ready - this little angel boy was coming home with me. Then The Man stepped in, "We need to think about this...yada yada...."....and I had to go home, Sherman-less. (Yes, the kittens name is Sherman.) Don't get me wrong, that was probably the responsible thing to do and all.

Tonight, all I can think about is that damn cat. I want him to live in my house. One step closer to becoming crazy cat lady? I think so.