It all revolves around this friggin bag of food:
Last week I was aware I was low on cat food, but I thought I had enough between dry and wet food to get me to Friday morning when I would have time to go to the grocery store. Thursday morning, at 6:30am, I ran out of all cat food. I didn't have an extra can of wet food like I thought I did, either. I was driving to campus (not something I usually do, but I had a 3pm meeting and that's when I would usually be getting my car), so I looked up the address of a Petco on the T and planned to get the food after my meeting but before my night class.
My meeting was done around 4. I grabbed a T out to Harvard Ave, ran into Petco really fast, grabbed the 7 pound bag of food, 6 cans of wet food, and a 3-pack of fountain filters. The wet food and filters easily fit in my school bag. I decided to carry the dry food as it likely would have split a plastic bag. Walked back to the T stop and waited about 5 minutes for a train. Where I had to stand. Holding my 7 pound bag of cat food. In my purple sweater dress, leggings, and knee high boots.
It's now 4:40 and I realize if I take the T back to my car to put the food in my trunk like I had originally planned, I would not be able to get to the payroll office to pick up my paycheck that I also needed to pick up. This dawns on me early enough to debate in my head: "Do I drop of the food and not get my paycheck today or do I walk into Student Services with a 7 pound bag of cat food in my arms like a baby?"
I chose the latter. I wanted
my paycheck. So I get off at St. Paul's Street, cross Commonwealth Avenue, and entered the Student Services Building, confidently carrying my bag of cat food. Got my paycheck, then realized, I need to deposit this now. I walked outside of SSB then debated in my head, "Do I cross Comm Ave to wait for a T or bus to take me over the BU Bridge or do I cross the BU Bridge on this side of the street carrying my 7 pound bag of cat food in my arms like a baby?"
I chose the latter. I wanted my paycheck in my bank account. So as confidently as I can, I cross the BU Bridge and walk down to the George Sherman Union where I walk past the student organizations that are tabeling and deposit my paycheck in the ATM. My 7 pound bag of cat food sat on the table behind me with my school bag. I now realize I am one building away from my locker and can take this opportunity to grab the books that are in my locker that I'll need for the weekend before going to my car. So I walk over to STH, with my 7 pound bag of cat food in my arms, and open my locker. I realize I don't know what books I need for the weekend - I haven't looked at my syllabi yet. Frustrated, exhausted, and somewhat sweaty, I (literally) drop my school bag and 7 pound baby of kitty sustenance on the ground, plop down on the floor, in my purple knit dress, leggings, and knee high boots, and pull out all my syllabi. Guess what?! Almost all my assigned readings for the week were online! Who knew?! Even more frustrated, I get up and slam my locker closed, walk down the hallway toward the exit, so ready to go to my car and be rid of this 7 pound burden when I run into a friend of mine
"Is that cat food" she asks me.
"Yes. I ran out."
"Huh," she says. "Are you going to the Spectrums Project thing?"
Right. That really awesome sounding info session about melding conservatives and liberals together in the same Christian congregation. Yes... I had planned to go to that. After another debate within my head I decide to go to the info session and once again confidently walk downstairs with my 7 pound bag of feline sustenance and get in line with several graduate students and faculty members, several of which are my professors. "Yes, it's a bag of cat food," I say when they look at me weird because they realized what I'm holding aren't notebooks or textbooks but a 7 friggin pound bag of cat food. We're all standing in line because this talk includes food. So I work with one hand to get some slices of melon and a cucumber sandwich on my plate. Forget a drink.
I barely make it into B19 (remember, I don't have any free hands anymore; feline sustenance in one hand, human sustenance in the other), then grab a chair and plop. I'm told by my friend quoted earlier that she'll leave early anyway because she's tired and will help me carry the cat food to my car. I say great! I'm planning to leave around 5:30.
5:30 comes and she doesn't move. 5:35 comes and she doesn't move. Around 5:40, they're changing out speakers (BTW - it was a really fascinating presentation. Though I think there are some measurement problems with their survey, I'm really impressed by their ultimate goal!) and I tap my friend on the shoulder.
"Hey," I whisper, "I'm headed out."
"Okay, see you!"
*crickets* So I gather up my school bag, 7 pound bag of torment, and my empty plate and get out of the room as quietly as I can. Alone. As I'm leaving STH, I have to continue on down Comm Ave and I have to walk through a photography class that is taking what I guess are candid landscape shots of BU's campus. They got the well-dressed cat lady in the background of their shots, I'm sure. It'll be a good conversation piece.
Around 5:50pm I get to my car and am able to get my cat's friggin food in the trunk. So I had a good hour and 20 minutes of arm workout and mild cardio if you count the fact that I walked from St. Paul's Street to Granby Ave with a 7 pound bag of dry cat food in my arms, carried like a baby. All for these little fuzzballs:
