Strange things, mystifying ...

My dreams lately have been odd.

Not "crazy dream chronicles"-caliber odd, just ... different.

Last night's dream: I was at a party. Like a party-in-high school party. Almost like a reunion, though. Since I knew that I hadn't seen these friends in forever. Christina and I were making sandwiches. Mayonnaise, turkey, dill pickles on white bread. I don't know why it seemed so important.
And I sat down next to Zog and we chatted.
And it was so nice to see everyone again.

I was a little sad to wake up. I s'pose because it made me more aware of how much I miss a lot of my friends.

Wednesday night's dream was also odd.

I was in my room, back at Mom's house. I was looking outside the window, and Gingi-cat was there.
And I was just so amazed to see her. Outside. And I opened the window. And she talked to me.
(I don't think I've ever had a dream featuring a talking cat before. Just for the record.)
And I knew that this wasn't normal. And she led me to this steep hill/grassy cliff. To lead me to my next cat.
There was a little kitten.
Like, not brand-spanking-new-and-wet-from-amniotic-fluid NEW ... but a few days old. You know, all small and compact, eyes and ears still closed -- that type of new.
And ascending the hill/cliff, there was a ledge with the mom cat and the rest of her litter.

Gosh, I really, really miss baby-baby kittens.
I'm all for spaying and neutering your pets.
But I miss ... like, when I was younger ... having a litter of kittens around. Being able to hold one completely in your hand. How they mew. How they purr as they all nurse together. Their little pin-prick-needle claws.

I also miss older kittens. How they play with anything. How all surfaces MUST be investigated. ... How they dive-bomb-attack their siblings.

I miss cats. There's nothing like having a purring cat on your lap. Or on your pillow.
When you're sick, you can snuggle with one ... and ... things are better.

Unless you're allergic, I suppose. Then it probably wouldn't be nearly as enjoyable or soothing.

So, yeah ... I don't wake up thrilled, exhilarated, or even feeling completely rested. Not the last few days.
I'm blaming it on hormones.

Still, I like the idea of Gingi gicng permission and helping me find another cat.
Regardless, I'd prefer to have her. I know her quirks and miss her purr and sounds (not quite a meow. Something more like "mrrnf"). I miss her snobby and rather skittish ways. And how she'd tolerate cuddling. And sleep on my pillow, next to my head.

Just checked the math ... 581 days. One year, seven months and four days.
Still sucks.
Just sayin'.