Sometimes life is like that, your day is cruising along, nothing special and then bam, something as innocuous as entering the walk in robe and recoiling in horror from the smell that assaults your senses can change your outlook from sunny to “it’s all to hard”. That was my Saturday….
Dry retching, I investigate the horrifying odour only to discover that in retaliation for feeding him the tablet he needs to control his Thyroid problem, darling Monty Cat has thrown up in my sneaker, across the carpet and up one wall of the walk in.
While only a small vomit, the minced beef must have been “marinating” overnight (it didn’t get below 25 inside that night and the walk in holds all the AV for the home theatre room adding to the heat factor in there, so the smell was unearthly. Can deal with visual ick, but smells, especially inside my house I don’t cope with.
(Thank god I didn’t get up at 4 am and dress in the dark to go for a ride like I was considering doing!!)
This “delightful” find brought on a dummy spit of spectacular proportions, irrational thoughts of torching the shoes and everything the disgusting mess had touched and topping it off with booze. “I’ll never be able to go for a long walk again, that’s it, I’ll be an unfit, tubby woman, so I may as well have a drink”. Yep, that’s where my brain took me. Aren’t you glad you weren’t there? 😉
A cup of tea and a slighted saner train of thought saw me try to clean everything and think through my though process. A drink wouldn’t solve anything, and seriously, the lack of one pair of shoes is going to put up such a barrier that it will derail my entire fitness program? Bloody hell Crazy Cat Lady, get a grip!
So why was this tiny “problem” such a big thing in my head. Perhaps it’s all the stuff I have going on at work, perhaps it’s because I didn’t sleep well last night, perhaps I’m seriously messed up and destined to burn my house down because of a bit of eww on the carpet! Who knows? LOL
What I do know, and I guess where this post is going is, don’t let the cat vomit in your shoe distract you from what you want to achieve. These small things are sent to try us and we can’t let them derail our focus on what is truly important.
PS: The carpet is now, thanks to the loan of a carpet cleaner from our next door neighbour, but my shoe smells like a wet dog – nothing worse than a sneaker that has to be soaked! I’m pretty sure it’ll have to go, but I’m holding out hope and investing in Glen 20 shares.
PSS: 20 days no wine today and feeling great