Often, my unhappiness is a self-inflicted wound.

I was in bed last night with my girlfriend. The lights were out, and we had finished our pillow talk. My eyes were closed when she observed, “Jessabelle [the cat] is not in bed with us.”

After our furry friend did not appear when she was summonsed, my love said she was concerned about the kitty’s whereabouts. She then asked me to find the feline.

I replied, “Wait, you want me to go look for the cat?”

“Yes.”

The clock read 10:48 as I voiced my annoyance, muttering something about the situation’s absurdity. I got out of bed and walked around the dark one-bedroom apartment, searching for J’belle. I couldn’t find the cat and curtly reported my results to my partner. A minute of silence passed before my girlfriend spoke.

She remarked that instead of getting upset with her, I could have told her “No” when she asked me to look for the cat. There was no reason for me to become upset. And she was correct.

I could and should have paused momentarily before reacting to the request to gather a search party and find the cat, who’d gone AWOL. My proverbial panties would not have been in a bunch had I simply said, “Darling, I love you. I’m tired and do not want to get out of bed to find our cat.”

p.s.- Jessabelle, under the bed the entire time, meowed and joined us.

My happiness depends on me. So, you’re off the hook.

Esther Hicks