Okay, here’s the thing: I am refusing to go back to letting my entire personality be centered around being disappointed and let down by life.

It’s not necessarily easy though, because it has definitely felt like every time I get back on my feet lately life bitch-slaps me again. The audacity.

You see, Agnes has given birth. And (drum roll, please), she had two (two) black-and-white kittens inside of her. One of which was stillborn.

So therefore: there is one healthy kitten.

(naturally we’ve been referring to it as “one” while we wait to see if it’s a boy or girl)

All this to say: I don’t get a kitten.

Amelia has perished.

Am I surprised? Yes and no.

Yes, because I honestly did not think for a minute that all she had in that fat belly was two tiny kittens (the reason strays overpopulate the streets is because they have so many kittens so often, isn’t it!?).

But no, because, sadly, this is just such a typical thing to happen to me. If I talk about how excited I am for something, then more often than not, it simply doesn’t work out. I dunno why, that’s just how it goes for me (this is the reason I keep my dating life a secret, haaaaaaa).

But it’s fine. It’s fine.

It seems blatant that the universe did not think it was a good time for me to adopt a kitten right now. And like, I get it. Maybe it was a bit crazy for me to take on a kitten as soon as I was experiencing the newfound freedom of being (almost) pet-free for the first time in my life. But, come on, I just wanted something to love!!!!! The disappointment and letdown is real.

When we got the “the kittens are coming!” text last Wednesday morning, we all hopped out of bed and drove right over to Taylor’s to find a ragged little kitten suckling and squirming around Agnes’s paws (Taylor had already taken Amelia the dead kitten away). We thought we had gotten there with plenty of time to witness the birth of the rest of the kittens, and we hung out the entire day waiting for something to happen. For us, the day was torturously never-ending, and it dragged on while we played games of solitaire, wrote fridge poetry, watched New Girl, and wasted hours doing nothing but petting Agnes and the single child.

We camped out at Taylor’s from 7:30am to 4:30pm, because we were so invested in witnessing a kitten’s birth…but, uhh, yeah, apparently that was it.

The vets told us that Agnes has no more kittens in her, despite the fact that she’s still plenty chunky and super heavy and acting kinda weird (we’ll just have to chalk it up to post-birth hormones).

The one kitten is freakin adorable though. It’s so tiny and pathetic — I love it. And I’m glad that I get to watch it grow up, even if it’s not mine. Taylor is planning to keep it, so now Agnes will be able to keep her baby forever.

It’s fine.

I’m fine.

We’re all fine.

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