Lower your expectations accordingly...

I need a cause. Apparently, supporting a cause will make you like me. Eighty percent of my content should add value to your life. The notion that I can add value to your life just because you click on my musings leads me to believe that your expectation of me might be a bit too high. Lower them accordingly.

Social currency is not my strong point. Like Howard Roark, I lack a basic understanding of the give and take in social situations, so this past week, I’ve researched social media and read blogs to discover methods to connect with readers. Everyone has a cause, even the Purple Spotted Hairless Platypus. I actually searched for purple platypus just to see if it returned any hits and I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that it did.

So what is my cause? It is supposed to be something that relates to my book or to me personally. Since I use my writing to vent about my husband and children, perhaps I could choose domestic abuse. No one actually supports domestic abuse, right? Even when we occasionally consider stringing our spouse up by his toenails and plucking each hair on his feet individually. But I digress… (Sorry if you’re reading this, sweetie – I didn’t mean you. Really.)

I could champion the environment. Everyone loves to be green. And it would expose a personal tidbit about myself – that I love interpreting regulations in an attempt to keep companies profitable while complying with environmental laws. But I also love my big screen TV and the chemicals that keep my pool crystal clear. Yes, I recycle. I also love Ziploc bags. They’re handy.

Down with the medical establishment! Wait, no. I endorse better living through medication. Why take something holistic if your insurance will reimburse you for something quality controlled and clinically trialed? Do you really think that bottle of ma huang had any trials other than something quantified as “Oops, screwed up that batch”? Not to mention, if I need surgery, I prefer anesthesia.

The list goes on and on. Emotional abuse. Emotional eaters. Codependency. Sexual addiction. There is nothing I can do to help these people. I refuse to increase your “awareness” for anything. Except perhaps for fungi. You should be aware of them. You’re surrounded by them and those suckers are dangerous. Everyone else has irrational fears about global war or an electromagnetic pulse. Not me. The book Spiral by Paul McEuen made me tremble for days.

My search for over-exercising didn’t turn up much. It only appears when linked to anorexia and bulimia, but I really love to eat so I don’t qualify. Maybe I need to start a support group for those of us who over-exercise just so we can eat three Drumsticks after dinner and still fit in our jeans? It did unearth an article to “Help Yourself Over Exercise Hurdles”. Over Exercise – get it? 

Is there a support group for people who exist inside their own head instead of reality?

So what do I like? I like eclectic furniture that doesn’t match. I love Lever 2000 soap (and no, for the three of you still reading this, they don’t pay me to plug it). I love margaritas. I hate protein powder, but I make myself drink it every morning anyway and I force down concentrated liquid fish oil. That has to be its own type of disorder that requires some therapy and support. And I like fluffy animals. Everyone likes a fluffy animal, right?

My cause. I found it. Fluffy animals. I like them, at least in theory. Except for one exceptionally pissy (and I mean that both literally and as a personality trait) Persian cat. She pees on my daughter’s carpet the minute we let her out of the basement without fail. My cause is to re-litterbox-train my cat. I can even pander to you with annoying fluffy kitty pictures.

So to add value to your life, dear reader, I will attempt to entertain you as I attempt to retrain my cat. Cat #1 on the left, Sylvia, is happy, easy to get along with, and litter box trained. Cat #2 on the right, Lillian, is Satan reincarnated. You suggest the method, I’ll try it out and report back.