Well, Megan (author of this blog and Chester the tabby cat’s human servant, but not in that order), there is a male variation on this neurosis. Let’s call it “crazy cat guy syndtome”, which I recognized in your list specific to crazy cat ladies. I have two cats, so I must be at least twice as crazy as you!
I turned off the television news and went to bed early last night. My headed pounded. My anger at what a handful of congressmen and one senator were doing to our country was just too much. There are ways to get your way in our system of government. Forty-three votes proved now is not the time; win the hearts and minds of the voters in 2014, and try again.
I slept well. Exhausted by the hate and anger building, poisoning my system, I slept the sleep of the dead.
Then I woke up, a smile on my face and with a memory of a dream I’d just had. I dream, I know, but I rarely remember them. This one was different. This one was in response to characterizations of the behavior of the Tea Party faction as being a revolution, of the participants being anarchists, not legislators, let alone statesmen! (I steamed up and bubbled over at the time, and knew it was bed time or a heart attack!)
WHAT! I know I’m upset when I start thinking in extreme ways. Remember my “radioactive glass” post? This is not the person I am, nor is it the person I want to be.
I sat on the edge of my bed. Andy and Dougy watched me, anxious for breakfast. Dougy jumped on my bed: “Get up, human! I’m hungry!” Andy sat in the next room, grooming and washing the sleep out of his eyes. Domesticity! Cute fuzzy cats! Aw! Dougy purred in anticipation of yummy catfood.,
The image of Ted Cruz and the errant congressmen standing in front of a wall faded, and this came back to mind:
Thank you, pastor. This isn’t the only time this quote got me through all-consuming hate and anger. It isn’t the first time it helped me feel whole again.