Death, cat pee and ink stains

“Not only are there no happy endings,” she told him, “there aren’t even any endings.”
–Neil Gaiman

The notice that the divorce was final came in the mail on the same day she faxed in the paperwork to have her father cremated. There were technical difficulties, and she got ink all over her hands and dress trying to clear a jam in the printer. Which seemed a bit unfair, since it wasn’t even her printer in the first place.

It was, she thought, not a propitious start to the New Year in the traditional sense. For someone like her? It was ideal. Rife with possibilities for testing her newly resolved upon positivity and desire to see silver linings in every situation.

She had also resolved to be the sort of person who used words like rife and propitious openly instead of only thinking them. The sort of person who doesn’t assume that other people won’t understand what she is talking about. The sort of person who doesn’t assume that other people don’t have good vocabularies. A devil-may-care sort of person.

If she couldn’t find silver linings in Death and Divorce, then she clearly was not trying hard enough. After all, endings and beginnings are exactly the same thing, and everyone loves a good beginning. Or something. Right?

She wasn’t sure if there was a silver lining in getting ink on her favorite dress though. For someone her size, it wasn’t going to be easy to find one she looked as pretty in, and that stain was never going to come out completely.

What else doesn’t come out completely, she wondered?

Cat pee. You scrub and scrub, but every time it dries out the stain and smell come back.

Maybe it was OK not to find a silver lining in the dress, but it would be pretty cool if it actually had a silver lining. Stiff, though.

Silver is antimicrobial. Maybe it would keep cat pee from smelling if it did get on things. Like her stiff dress.

Her third resolution was to become the sort of person who was more focused and goal oriented. She would be laser sharp. Or was it razor? Always right on task. What were you supposed to use to get ink out? Was it hair spray? She wasn’t sure she had any hair spray now that her hair was short.

Some day she would figure out that there was not a thing wrong with the person that she already was. This would be quite a surprise to her. Considering how much thought she gave to her own flaws, the only real surprise was that she would be surprised about anything about herself at all.

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