Captain’s Log: Rebellious Mornings and Cat Wall Casualties

Captain’s Log, Stardate 2601.090825

This log records one of those deceptively ordinary days—where nothing catastrophic happens, yet everything feels slightly off-balance. Originally written on a Monday that proved four “good gut days” does not equal healing, this entry documents the fragile dance between optimism and relapse.

Progress is rarely linear.

And neither are cats.

Mondays really are the worst. If I’ve learned anything lately, it’s this: never cancel a gastro appointment after just four “good” days unless you are absolutely sure you’ve turned a corner.

Spoiler: I haven’t.

I won’t have to see the gastro on my birthday anymore, which felt like a win at first. After this morning? I’m not convinced it was.

Despite the warm-water ritual and calming teas, my stomach staged a full rebellion. Add work stress, and the sparkle was gone before noon.

(For context: tonight’s photo is Spot showing off on our bedroom cat wall. Ghost Pepper’s dramatic moment comes later.)

 

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The Battle of The Cave

By noon, I’d been working since 7:30 a.m.—catching up from last week’s Medicare training days and prepping for Open Enrollment.

My cramps intensified.
The Cave felt hotter than usual.
Fans were spinning like aircraft propellers.

Cloud cover outside. Lights dimmed. Still sweltering.

I finally surrendered, grabbed lunch, and collapsed on the couch.

I’m not a napper. My body disagreed.

I set an alarm for my 3 p.m. Medicare appointment—one I absolutely could not miss.

The alarm failed.

I woke at 2:35 p.m., likely thanks to my boyfriend leaving to pick up his son. Small miracle.

In my scramble, I knocked my water bottle straight into the trash can and spilled water everywhere. Backup bottle activated. My new Owala tumbler had just arrived—professional-looking this time, no chaotic stickers.

Almost dropped it out of the box.

Classic.

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Professional Pants and Perimenopause

Two pairs of black professional pants arrived as well.

The goal: survive Medicare trainings without triggering a hot-flash meltdown.

Never thought I’d be wardrobe-planning around hormones at 39, but here we are.

One day, I’ll crack the code on easing gastric distress, back pain, and gynecological pain all at once.

Until then, it’s trial and error.

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The Phone That Never Came

FedEx played its favorite game all day:

Out for delivery.
3 p.m.
8 p.m.
End of day.

By 9:29 p.m., still nothing.

At this point, a 10 p.m. signature knock wouldn’t even shock me.

Busy season prep requires a functioning phone. And here I am—still waiting.

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Cat Wall Drama

While winding down to blog, Ghost Pepper attempted to scale the stuffed-animal-lined mantel above the cat wall.

She slipped.

Hit two shelves.

Landed on hardwood.

Immediate panic.

Treats didn’t lure her out. My boyfriend walked in—and suddenly she stood up like nothing happened.

Cats are theatrical.

Now Ghost Pepper and Little Feetsies have resumed their nightly tradition: sandwiching me in bed.

They’re also the two I’m most allergic to.

OCD-level cleaning doesn’t stop them. Locking them out isn’t an option—thanks to the patio cat flap and Hodor’s historic door-banging campaign.

Speaking of Hodor, we switched him from liquid anxiety meds to a pill. Easier to administer, though it makes him loopy. Used sparingly.

Silver lining: no spraying incidents in weeks.

Cautious optimism.

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Tomorrow’s Marathon

Tomorrow marks day three of in-person Medicare training—a Blue Cross road show covering both Medicare and Under-65.

All day.

Bright-eyed. Focused. Content-ready.

Still phone-less.

But here’s the truth:

Life rarely stabilizes before you need to perform.

Stomach flares don’t wait for your calendar.

FedEx doesn’t consult your deadlines.

Cats don’t respect gravity.

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Final Reflection

Today was messy.

Stomach knots.
Spilled water.
Missing phone.
Falling cats.

And yet—

I made the 3 p.m. appointment.
I worked the morning shift.
I didn’t spiral.

That counts.

Maybe I haven’t turned the corner with my gut yet.

But I haven’t regressed into panic either.

For now, that’s progress.

And tomorrow?

We show up again.