Crazy cat lady

Ah, the single girl’s worst nightmare… winding up as the crazy cat lady. You know, the mythical creature who grows old alone and moves into a crumbling gray mansion inhabited by dozens – nay, hundreds of cats.

I think I might be on my way.

But first, let me explain. I live in a very nice apartment complex. It’s quiet, people keep to themselves. I’ve only met my across-the-hall neighbors once and I’m not entirely sure who lives next to me. Even when I go out to grab my mail or drop off my rent check, I rarely see any of the other tenants.

There are, however, a few cats roaming the property. Technically, they’re not supposed to. Technically, their owners should be keeping them inside. Technically. But roam they do.

You should also know I am allergic to cats and don’t even want these creatures to rub up against my leg. Or anything. No way, no how am I taking cat hair back to my 500 square foot sanctuary. No. Just no no no no no.

So today, I was walking back to my apartment after stopping by the mailboxes and lo! In my path was a cat. I started walking towards it, muttering a few “scrams” under my breath. I may have hissed a little at one point. I thought maybe if I barked quietly, it would – obviously – mistake me for a dog and run away. It did none of those things. As I got closer to it, I said, very clearly and loudly, “SHOO! Go away!”

And just then I noticed that two of the neighbors were watching.

They had these strained smiles on their faces. You know, the kind that say, “We really want to be nice but we’re not sure what to do when we cross paths with someone who needs their meds right now.”

I ducked my head in embarrassment and practically ran the rest of the way to my apartment. Where I promptly let loose a string of “Bwahahahahahahas” and determined that the couple definitely had the right idea. I’m turning into a brand new species of “crazy cat lady!”

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