February 10, 2012


Days devoured by anxiety over cat and car. Took Titus to a new vet. I wonder if he was aware of my will trying to drill into his brain “Do something for my buddy, NOW.” His affect was altogether different from the first one, far more direct and assertive. I put that down to gender, but who knows? In any case, he is consulting with colleagues today to see what might be done. He recommended mixing canned pumpkin with Titus’ food to loosen the stool, and that seems to have worked. That I could be so joyful over regular old cat turds would have been, under other circumstances, absurd. Titus is the sweetest cat in the world, nuzzling against the doctor who, moments before, had him drooling with pain and fear with his fingers up his rectum. But it is still a waiting game.

The Toyota people couldn’t fix the Prius (lacking a body shop) so I took it here and there for estimates, as I assumed the insurance company would desire. It never occurred to me to make a claim until the Toyota folks said, “get your insurance company involved,” which was the first signal that it was worse than I thought. It drove fine, so I figured it was fine. The kind people at Moss Paint and Body revealed the full horror, which I would as soon forget as itemize. I liked hanging out along the railroad tracks at Emma Road during the investigation, buying coffee, drinking it leaning up against the gas pump at the Ice Service Store, chatting with locals who had been sent by co-workers in the garages and welding shops roundabout for refills of coffee. Taking it to the insurance-company-approved body shop today to cut paperwork.

I need to take a look at the near-mania I have for circumventing process. My first impulse, when presented with procedures for what should, in my estimation, be much simpler, is to rebel, refuse, thwart. I am this way because 85% of procedures are unnecessary and 65% can be circumvented. But sometimes. . . not. I tried to shrug out of the insurance company process by paying it myself, but it got too expensive, and now I go from step to piddling step. I tried to get Titus help, and dwell in a state of upheaval because it was not done in one timely stroke. Consulting. . . running it past the committee. . . a time of discernment. . .please sign these papers first. . . engage my fury as almost nothing else. Prudence is a rich, ugly old maid courted by incapacity.