I’ve been feeling guilty lately.

In my sophomore year of college I asked my roommates if I could get a kitten. They said okay, and that weekend I went to philadelphia to pick a kitten from my boyfriend’s brother’s friend’s cat’s litter.

I named her Soma and I loved her so much.

When I got home from Philadelphia, I found out that one of my roommates had driven all the way to Iowa to get a cat.

It was strange – how she brought a farm cat home. I remember feeling startled by the Single White Female feeling, but just figuring it was one of those things.

But then for some reason she wouldn’t take the cat to the vet. And I was so upset. I was righteous. I was scared that Soma would get worms or fleas or some other disease. I did not want that cat near mine before I knew it was safe.

So while Soma took naps in tissue boxes, climbed up sliding glass door screens, sat next to me while I did my homework and ran around the house, the other cat lived in a room. Her cat cried sometimes, and my roommate started to not stay at our house anymore.

It was a strange time. No wonder my memory is so fuzzy.

I don’t know why I didn’t just take care of the vet stuff myself. I’m sure I didn’t have the money, but I’m more sure I was standing up for my righteous beliefs.

One day, my other roommate had enough, I guess. She let the cat out, brushed his fur, cleaned the whole house even! I remember coming home from class, and taking a deep breath, feeling like maybe it would be okay.

The next day the roommate who had moved out came and took the cat to the SPCA.

So now forever, I have imagined that that poor cat’s fate. She was taken from a lovely outside farm life, stuck in a college bedroom for a bit, then most likely, put down at the SPCA… all because I had the principled feeling that things had to be done a certain way. For an animal rights activist, this is a very wrong story.

I told that story to my therapist the other day to make the point that I have been trying to figure out how to know what the right thing is at any given point. How do you know if the thing you are feeling so sure about is the right thing?

I feel so guilty about that cat. What other decisions have I made, have I stuck by like that? What have the ramifications been?

My therapist paused after my story. She may have sighed, I don’t know.

“So let me get this right,” she said “You took care of your cat, which is what you are supposed to do. Your roommate did not take care of her cat, which is not okay.”

I nodded, and she continued. “I think maybe you should explore why you feel responsible for that cat.”

So, I guess I’m not done with therapy!

PS. My memory is hazzy. It may have been 2 cats from Iowa. I don’t know.

There was this one time, years ago, that a few of us tried a free jazzercise class. Maybe you’ve given birth to three children, maybe you haven’t. But I did have to run to the bathroom a lot. There was a lot of jumping in that jazzercise class.

I want you to know, that that jazzercise class is the real reason that I wore a long t-shirt to try Zumba today — Just in case I needed the coverage. It was a 20 year old tie-dye shirt from my first year teaching with our class quote, “You never know what’s going to happen in Room 16!” on the front, and “Second Grade with Ms. Gabriel” on the back.

I stood at the bottom of my driveway waiting for Anne to pick me up, when a friend I haven’t seen in awhile happened to pull up to my neighbor’s house.

She called over, “Waiting for your uber?” just moments before Anne pulled up.

I wish I had told her I was on my way to my first zumba class ever, because she would have had a good laugh. She was my mentor teacher, and through the years she has tried to teach me dance routines many times.

On second thought, it’s probably best that I didn’t have time to tell her where I was going. She might have made me do the cha cha slide or something after she was done laughing.

The class is held outside, in a church parking lot. When we got there Anne asked me if I was a front of class or back of class person.

“Back of class.”

Part way through zumba, I decided that it made sense that I was wearing a t-shirt from my first year of teaching for my first zumba class. #firsts (Also, just like room 16, I never know what is going to happen, or rather what is happening in zumba!)

I also decided I shouldn’t have worried about wearing the long t-shirt. There was some jumping for sure, but usually I was too late to realize the jump was happening.

I don’t know what you are supposed to be thinking about during zumba, but snuck in between the utter concentration that I needed for each step, each arm movement, and each butt wiggle, I had a few thoughts. Thoughts like:

Thank goodness I said “back of class.” I can’t even imagine being in the front!
Will counting help? 1,2,3,4,1,2,3,4. . .
My butt doesn’t move like that.
I wonder if I can get these songs for running.
How long between runs makes you not a runner any more?
No wonder I enjoy running, it’s only one kind of step, over and over!
Wow. I’ve changed. I barely care what people think of me while I totally butcher these movements.
Well, I kind of care what the people behind me think.
Wait! I got that step.
Oh, not this step though.
Brene Brown was right about FFTs
Why can’t I montage this part: learning zumba steps. It would be just like how Baby learns to dance in Dirty Dancing.
It’s so unfair how you can’t montage life.

The class is full of nice people, and honestly, even without private lessons from Patrick Swayze it was super fun. I can’t wait for the next one!