10.01.01 - 12:29 a.m.

Great googly moogly...I was going to start this entry with "Fleepity fleep! I'm so excited!" but after the amount of shit I've done in the past few hours, those words have been replaced.

I've been packing for my trip, wrapping packages, going to and from the garage where my entire life is stored for bags, envelopes, wedding presents, scarves and TVs, then returning half of said items to the garage, worrying about Kodi's scrawniness, fixing my resume for the millionth time, setting tapes for all the shows I want to watch this week, watching Alias while eating a pumpkin gob...I think that about covers it. I have overpacked so incredibly because I don't know what the weather will be like (what is 60 degrees anyway? T-shirts? Sweaters? Define 60 degree clothing to me. Please.) and I don't know what I'll be doing, and you know what? I don't care. I can fill the whole damn car with my clothes if I want to, and I very well might. I am a girl. It is my god-given right to overpack.

And this week, or the coming weeks, might be the last time I ever see Kodi. He smells like an old cat, he's all bones - the back of the collarbone or whatever bone that is on a cat sticks out so sadly and grotesquely - and just sits in odd places, like next to the kitchen fridge, by himself at night. I've barely heard him meow in the week I've been here. But he hasn't lost his appetite and he still follows you around, begging for love and attention and it makes me burst into tears (like I am right now) because he is just the world's greatest, friendliest, most lovable, simple pet. I don't care what people might say - I'm seeing someone I love deteriorate before my eyes and my heart is breaking every day. Remember that children's book, The Tenth Good Thing About Barney? That's how it is with Kodi. I need to pet him, I need to let him know he's loved even if people say cats don't understand those things. I think he does.

And I'd let him sleep on my bed tonight before I leave (once again) for New Jersey but he might poo on it. Or somewhere else. Like in Dad's shoe, which would be one of the most amusing things to witness the next morning although it would seriously shorten Kodi's already shrinking lifespan. But still. That would serve old Daddio right for the years of cat abuse. (Witness: Kodi in fridge, for only two seconds, but still; also, Kodi threatened with big stinky feet, Kodi being duped into eating hot sauce/red pepper flakes/just pepper, Kodi almost being puffy-painted gold, etc.) A girl can dream.

I love my cat. He is more real to me than most people.