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.