ONLY SOMEONE OF MY mother's generation would think that going TikTok viral was going to ruin her life. She came storming into my room just now wearing head-to-toe lululemon, hair all sticking up out of a headband and sucking from a Team Canada water bottle like she'd just been competing in an Olympic event, demanding to know how to stop the #bigbutts challenge.
"You can't stop it, Mum," I tried to explain AGAIN, already losing my patience with her. "You have over a million shares. People are making their own versions. It's a total hit. This is a good thing."
"It's not a good thing," she insisted. "They're showing up at the cafe, dancing all over the place. Natalie is freaked out. The cat has taken refuge in the milk fridge and won't come out. He'll freeze to death. And it's completely unsanitary to have an obese cat living in the milk fridge."
Poor cat. Thinking about him made me instantly miss Jeffry, who now lives in super cool New York squalor. I haven't spoken to him in forever.
I just shrugged at her. What did she want me to do about the way the internet works?
Unsatisfied, Mum spun out of my room in a huff, saying she needed to get to the cafe to help Natalie with all the craziness.
I felt myself get vaguely interested in going to the cafe to check out the 'craziness' myself but decided to stay in bed (where I've been all day) and keep working on my life goals list. Getting distracted by my mother's non-problems, regardless of how hysterical she is being about them, does not appear anywhere on my carefully plotted out Best-Life To-Dos:
1. Decide what I'm doing with my life, in general sense as well as in specific sense — Am I dropping out of school? Am I missing exams? Am I going to live in my childhood bedroom forever? Am I going to continue being a naive, awkward, sexless geek until I am a job-less, prospect-less, hope-less old cat-lady?
2. Research jobs that aren't related to commerce, capitalism, or industry + that give something back to the world, do good and preferably don't cause a person to have to live in a shelter (or work in my mother's cafe) because they can't afford rent.
3. Maybe work in climate change? Against, obviously. Not for.
4. Maybe become a psychologist? Or get one, since that's clearly needed.
5. Learn how to do makeup by following along with YouTube tutorials so I can be more attractive to prospective girlfriend/boyfriend and avoid tragic 'cat-lady' destiny.
6. Figure out what Jule's boyfriend has that I don't. Apart from the obvious.
7. Figure out why Jules hasn't even tried to get in touch even if she *does* prefer her stupid boyfriend. Kind of rude to obviously be aware that your roommate hasn't been in your room for a week and not mention it at all.
8. Return books on Kierkegaard to university library before I rack up fines.
9. Write Jules a moving, emotionally-authentic poem that makes her regret giving up on me and choosing her stupid boyfriend who I'll bet has never written her a poem.
10. Block Jules on Instagram so I don't have to spend any more time wondering why she hasn't DMed me.
[...]
I feel like I am nearing a crucial point in my to-do list when my phone makes the plunking sound of an incoming email. I'm ashamed to admit that in the nano-second it takes me to flip to my inbox, I live out a detailed alter-reality where it is Jules, emailing me a moving, emotionally-authentic poem.
Of course, the real-reality is that it's just the University library sending me a late-return invoice. With fees.
I flip back to iMessage and send my old friend Jeffry an SOS disguised as a breezy check-in:
< Hey you. It's me. How's NYC? Sold any art lately? Your cat misses you. I guess I do too.