My Biological Clock

A little while ago I posted something on Twitter to the effect of this:

My biological clock is dysfunctional. It's making me long for a kitten. #BiologicalClock
— Jenny Williamson (@TheGenuineJenny) May 2, 2013

Yes, I meant it as a joke. At the time. But it’s actually true. My sister got a new kitten (ADORBS!!):

...And all I could think of was having a cat. I want a cuddly little warm body snuggled up next to me while I type. I want a purring little animal keeping my feet warm at night. I want the unconditional love and adorableness that only a cat can provide.

I never really wanted kids. Throughout my twenties, people always told me I’d change my mind. So far that hasn’t happened, and it’s getting to the point where if I was going to change my mind, it better be soon. 

But I did want cats. At least five. I wanted to have a mother cat and all the kittens. Some people pity crazy cat ladies; I always wanted to be one. It's not true my biological clock is broken. It's just attuned to non-human babies.

But I look at my life now, and it’s not set up for cats. For one reason, I travel too much. Like right now, while you’re reading this, I’m in New Zealand with my boyfriend—a guy who lives in Europe and gives me a great excuse to get out of town. A cat can be left alone for a week or so, but I couldn’t leave one for weeks or even months at a time.

Even if I didn’t travel so much, though, I don’t know that I would be able to have a cat. My apartment’s too small. There’s no good place for litter. And with rent costing what it does in New York, my life would have to seriously change—I’d have to either make a ton more money or decide to move out of the city—before I’d be able to move to a bigger place.

So for now, I’ll just have to live vicariously through Angel. Angel: this is my request for more Hobbes pictures up on the PostcardProject. I’ll get my own someday, but for now, I’m going to just pretend he’s my baby.