Calling All Cute Guys!

Calling all cute guys! Guess what? I’m ready to have a new man in my life! I’ve been on my own for a while now, but I feel totally ready for a relationship. And I guess it’s time, before I get stuck in my ways.

What “ways”? I don’t have any “ways”! I’m easy! Like, if you hang a towel on the bathroom doorknob after you’ve taken a shower, or forget to close the kitchen cupboards, or screw on the top of the peanut-butter jar in an uneven way, I won’t be mad. Not too mad. But don’t do it.

Will you be bringing a lot of random stuff with you when you move in? Clothes and shoes and whatnot? That’s fine! I have an extra bedroom closet for you! You’ll have to keep the door open for ventilation, because Topper’s kitty-litter box is in there, but I don’t think Topper will mind. I’ll ask him first, though.

Speaking of the bedroom, it’s true that I sleep with the other side of the bed strewn with books and magazines, my phone, my laptop playing whatever I fell asleep watching, a half-eaten bag of Herr’s potato chips, and nail clippers. Now that side is going to be your side. You can just shove all that stuff over to my side. I won’t mind! That way it’ll be right there when I wake up, which I do six or ten times a night, and turn on all the lights to entertain myself or trim my toenails.

Also, my side of the bed has a big, body-shaped dip in it because I’ve slept on that side for a long time. Your side is a lot higher, so you might roll into my side while you’re sleeping. Don’t do that. Just go into the other room and sleep on the couch with Topper, a.k.a. the Greatest Cat Who Ever Lived. Don’t try to move him, though. Cats have claws, and those sharp little teeth, for a reason.

I have a very full schedule every day. I’m up at dawn to do my Mindful Tap Dancing practice, which I do in the bedroom so I can watch myself in the full-length mirror. Honestly, I don’t know how I’d make it through the day without my tap-dancing practice. There’s nothing like it to help you focus in the present moment and to melt your cares away. I do it for three hours. Join me if you like!

I work every day, at my desk, but it’s O.K. with me if you work at home, too. Just find someone else’s home. Kidding! You can work on your side of the bed, or in the bathtub, like Dalton Trumbo. Living alone, I admit, has made me a little sensitive about ambient noise while I’m trying to concentrate, which is why I wear two sets of headphones, one on top of the other. Even if you say nothing, I will be able to feel the vibrations of you tiptoeing around in your socks, or even thinking of tiptoeing around in your socks, so avoid doing that.

When I’m taking a break, you’re more than welcome to move around the apartment freely or listen to the radio. Please don’t switch the station from NPR. Ever. I keep it on NPR so that I can be ready to listen to “Fresh Air” every afternoon and yell at Terry Gross for not asking her guests the questions I would have asked.

Topper and I believe in a civilized dinner hour, so we sit at the table, Topper in his high chair and me in a regular chair, and talk over the events of the day. I don’t like Topper to feel bad, so I don’t use utensils. If you’re more comfortable with a fork and a knife, go right ahead. But Topper and I, we eat straight from the plate. Then we lick ourselves.

After dinner, we enjoy a game of Scrabble. Some people think cats can’t play Scrabble, but that’s nonsense. It may look like Topper’s just swatting at his letters and cuffing them onto the floor, but he always makes a word, even if that word is “za” or “gi” or “bo,” which are all legitimate Scrabble words. As Topper well knows!

Warning: we have a mean couple living just below us, so be prepared. They won’t say hello, and, if they’re in the elevator and see me coming through the lobby, they never hold the door. They’re “bothered” by the tap dancing, they tell me. I’ve explained that we all live here together, in community, but you know how some people are, thinking only of themselves. ♦