From time to time, I have meltdowns based on my fear of becoming a cat lady.
Then I remember that I don’t have any cats.
And I feel better.
But then I am reminded of my rapidly approaching thirtieth birthday, coupled with my perpetual single status, and the panic starts again.
Then I get asked out by three different guys, three days in a row.
And I am comforted that there is hope for me yet.
Until I watch cat videos and realize that, although I may not own any cats, my cat-like mannerisms have already transformed me into a McGonagall-like cat lady. I know, I know. Where I went wrong was watching cat videos in the first place. But what’s done is done, and I am horrified to realize that those cat videos have infiltrated my psyche. I have become Animagus Aurora, the cat-less cat lady.
When I peruse the online dating profiles of my inevitably terrible matches, this is a remarkable likeness to my reaction:
And when those terrible matches want to take me on a date, sometimes I have to resort to playing dead:
But I can be all-too-easily won over with chocolate:
And once a man earns my trust (with said chocolate), I melt into a snuggly cuddle monster. “Pet me!”
The secret is out. There is no fighting it. My cat lady status is official, even sans cat ownership. In light of these evidentiary videos, I regret to inform you, dear readers, that I have clearly become…
Animagus Aurora, the cat-less cat lady