The 5th Sims

November 10, 2010

Yesterday whilst backing into the driveway I thought I may have gone over a more difficult bump than usual. I think I hear the bell around Molly, my cat’s neck. Getting out of the car I see nothing no sign of a kitty cat apart from a lump or orange fur.

This is the point where I nearly have a panic attack. I tell Dad, we look for her and mum says that shes been malting a lot lately. I’m not satisfied and we cant find her.

Suddenly I go back to normal. I don’t know if Molly has been hit or not, but I go back to normal. Feelng cold and going about my normal life. What the fuck is that?

Next day, Mum tries to ease any worry by saying anyone could have hit her reversing. Dad will look under the house when he gets home. Nobody blames you. Not long later Mum calls me and I rush out to see Molly fine as fine can be drinking water. I’m not relieved even thout I say I am.

Caring shouldn’t be hard. I care about my sister and my Mum’s neck pains. I care about having fun with my Dad.  I care about getting better. I love working as a massage therapist and learning remedial. I can do the former and hopefully I’ll be doing the latter early next year.

It’s just I’m confused by the things I feel detached at. Something will happen and my initial reaction is normal and not long afterwards, I don’t care. Other times something will happen and I just go straight to the not caring part. Fuck I feel like and asshole.



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