Mr Scale’s Journal: Day 1

Day 1 of my captivity. 

The Hot Mess Princess has relegated me to a tight space inside the confines of her closet.  At first, I thought I was alone in the dark but it appears my worst fears have been confirmed:  I’m caught between a shoe bag and a cat bed.  The cat spends most of her day curled up in a cozy ball, napping.  It’s as if she’s taunting me with her luxurious lifestyle while I sit here squashed up against the shoe bag, begging for an end to this misery. 

I miss the bright lights of the bathroom.  I long to feel the cold ceramic tile on my little rubber feet.  The smell of shoes and cat butt is everywhere.  This space is so tight, dark, and a little sad.  So many clothes I never see the Hot Mess Princess wear.  As I look around, I realize that she is obsessed with handbags.  I think it’s a strange obsession, but I must admit she has pretty damn good taste.  There’s a pair of shoes nearby with extremely pointy toes.  They look like weapons.  I am afraid.

The cat is a gray tabby, I’m sure.  She seems quite full of herself.  I’ve seen her bully one of the giant dogs before.  She is not to be messed with.  Just when I think my existence can’t get any worse, she rouses from her nap and stretches.  The closet air suddenly smells like butt, mixed with tuna, and I realize I’m inhaling a cat fart.  Why, God, why? 

The black cat was in here earlier, ever curious.  She sniffed at me and recoiled as if she was disgusted in some way.  Bitch.  At least the orange cat doesn’t seem interested.  He’s the laziest animal I’ve ever seen.  He literally sleeps on the bed 23 hours a day.  The large bowl of kibble in the corner seems to have some kind of drugging effect on him. 

There are tons of clothes hanging all around me.  Many of them are very large.  The Hot Mess Princess got dressed in here this morning, performing a strange ritual:  she would wrestle with a piece of clothing while she tried it on, then swore expletives under her breath and put it back before grabbing something else.  This went on for about 10 minutes before she finally found something that took the scowl off her face.  I wanted to ask her why she has those ugly pointy shoes, but I have no mouth…so I just sat here and prayed the farty cat would not return.

The Man scares me.  I don’t see him much, but his favorite outfit seems to be just socks.  He staggers in here in the morning and pulls his clothes off the hangers as if he’s sleep walking.  The hangers are wire.  What kind of barbaric caveman uses wire hangers?  His clothes are hung haphazardly over my head – this is because he shoves through them with no patience, looking for shirts without BBQ stains or pen marks.  He has no idea the Hot Mess Princess keeps a secret stash of stain free clothing for when she has to take him outside to meet people. 

I hear barking.  Someone must be approaching the house.  Or across the street.  Or down the street.  The younger dog seems to be very territorial and protective.  And brainless.  He chewed up the tv remote yesterday and then left the evidence all over his dog bed.  Then he spent a half an hour staring at one of the kitchen cabinets like it was a Monet.  What an idiot.  If I had the ability to act out in any way, I would be too smart to get caught.  Sadly, the only thing I can do is occasionally show the Hot Mess Princess a number she doesn’t like…but I risk getting kicked against the bathtub if I do.  I try not to provoke her – especially since she shoved me up against the Man’s table saw.

As my day draws to a close, I listen intently to the Hot Mess Princess and the Man talking nearby.  They are happy about something called baseball.  I hear the Man say something about 3 balls, but I’m sure I’ve only seen 2 when he’s walking around here in the mornings.  Curious.

I wish I could find a way to escape this hell.  If she keeps her word, the Hot Mess Princess will take me back home to my sunny bathroom on Sunday.  It seems like an eternity.  Aside from spending the night on the table saw, I can’t imagine a crueler existence than leaning here in the closet where no one sees me or uses me.  No one, of course, but the gray tabby…who has just yacked up a hairball right in front of me. 

I pray for the sweet release of death, but I know that will never come.  My lithium battery may give me life, but it also guarantees many more years of hell for me.  I know this is not my last “vacation” in the closet.

Until tomorrow…


4 thoughts on “Mr Scale’s Journal: Day 1

  1. Love it! How cool would it be to hear the same situation from the cat?? LOL!! I want you to know I fell off the wagon for a few weeks…. bleh. I’ve only gained back about 4 or 5 pounds, but you know as well as I do that five pounds are a whole lot harder to lose than to gain. I hate this struggle. I’m going to digress into my teen years for a moment here, so forgive me: but it’s just not freaking fair! There are women in this world who never, ever have to think about what goes in their mouths. They eat what they want, when they want. I just don’t get that, you know? What is it in our bodies or brains that causes such a difference?? Anyway, sorry bout that. Fitness and healthy eating used to come so easy to me, and I really need to find that switch in my brain to get back into that mode. BUT – I want you to know that there are many times I think to myself “Dianne wouldn’t eat that”, “Dianne wouldn’t give up now”. You have to know that while our successes and praise help fuel you, you make an impact on us as well. I know you have on me. I want to thank you on this day for mothers for being our HotMessBadAss Momma. You help us, you encourage us, and you admonish us when we need it. You have been blessed with a gift, thank you for sharing your gift with us! 🙂 

    1. Christy, thank you so much…that really made me smile.  🙂  I totally get the “it’s not fair” thing too.  I always tell myself that there has to be something wrong with those people somewhere…probably a really nasty toe fungus or back hair so thick it has to be braided.  🙂

  2. Hi, Christy, I’m Sarah…the cat.  My siblings, Hemi & Caesar, are not as well versed in the human dialect as I am…and the dogs are just too stupid to type…but I enjoy sneaking onto Mom’s laptop after she goes to bed – so I’ll thank you not to tell her I was here.

    I’m otherwise very lady-like, but I admit that I’ve tried my best to squeak out the nastiest farts imaginable since Mr. Scale has been next to my plush, pink kitty kat bed.  He deserves it.

    Now he’s back in the bathroom but I barfed up a hairball on him earlier today.  He better be nicer to my Mom or I just might forget where my litter box is!

    Thanks for reading Mom’s blog…I know it helps her a lot.  So does holding me in her lap for endless hours on end – which reminds me…I have to go…


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