One week and one day after the Worst Day Of My Life, and my cat asks me, upon my return home from the gym, “Are you sad and angry today?”
I tell her, yup, of course I am.
She looks up from where she’s pressed herself against my leg on the bed. I bend to cover her with my body, which she always allows, like a dog.
“I’m gonna be sad and angry every day,” I tell her. “Forever.”
“That’s okay, right?” she says.
Yup, it is, I tell her.
“Whatever works,” as he taught me.