My mom's cat lives under her quilt

So. I had the best sleep that I've had in ages last night at Michael's place. He says it's the "pillow top" mattress. I think it's the sex (can I write that? I just wrote that: saucy!). Anyways, he went to work and I played with his fast internet connection and then went home and did SFA for an indeterminate length of time before going to see my mom.
It turned out to be a great day and we walked from her condo to the beach and to Granville Island and I think she was surprised a bit by some of the things we stumbled across and I think Vancouver has changed a lot since her and my dad lived there last. We then went for (what I thought was) an excellent dinner at what used to be The Cat's Meow but is now part of the Brown's Social House chain. Whatever. My dinner was excellent, the wine selection was decent, the ambiance was great. The only downside was that the music was too loud.
Then I helped my mom hang a mirror and petted her spastic cat which was hiding under a quilt because it's totally retarded and needs medication. Oh well, at least it didn't hiss at me like it used to. Fcker. I'm a nice person and I've had pets all my life and I volunteered at the SPCA in the hopes that by volunteering my wondrous services for free it would save animals (like Felix) from getting gassed, but man, that cat... Anyways, I was able to pat him for a long time, mostly cause the weight of the quilt was burdening him significantly and he couldn't make a swift escape. Ha ha! I kid. I love him all the more because he's emotionally stunted and doesn't know how to interact with people: he reminds me a lot of me.
Then I met up with an ex for drinks on Granville because it seems to be that occasionally I would rather unload on people that are not intimately familiar with my life; somehow that takes the pressure off. I had a surprisingly good time: I laughed a lot. I think this comes from me and my new found attempts to just let go and go with flow.
Who knew you didn't need to hide under the quilt covers incessantly?
Also? Michael (who never seems to care where I am or what I'm doing) called me twice within half an hour and it made me feel like I was missed and cared about and special.
He's dreamy.