We’ve been drifting apart lately, and I know you’ve noticed it. It’s not just in your head – I really am avoiding you on purpose. And when I am around you, I try to always be in a group rather than one on one. The reason for this is going to sound silly and people might not believe me, but here goes: All you ever talk about is cats. Really. Listen to yourself for a day, and count how many conversations you have that don’t end up coming back to cats. It’s actually kind of impressive considering the fact that they aren’t even yours.
Sure, there are other little things about you that have annoyed me over the years, but they’re easy to ignore or adjust to, whereas this is not possible to ignore unless I just tune out every word you say. For obvious reasons, that wouldn’t work very well for a friendship either. I’ve tried for months to switch to other topics of conversation, but no matter what the subject is you somehow always bring it back to cats – what they’re doing, what they did yesterday, what they might be doing later, the fact that they don’t like you, on and on. I tried acting uninterested, but that didn’t faze you. I even said “can we not talk about cats today?” but guess what happened again a few minutes later? Then you started psychoanalyzing them and “diagnosing” them with all kinds of strange neuroses, and I decided I couldn’t take it anymore.
You’ve done what I previously would have thought impossible – you’ve become a 23 year old crazy cat lady who has never owned a cat in her life. Bravo. When you get over it, give me a call.