The neighbor’s cat has been walking on my car again. I can see his muddy footprints on my new windshield. I can see the spot right near the roof where he slipped on the curved roof of my Beetle. I feel a little vindicated that my car made him look silly. I can just imagine him slipping a bit and furtively looking about. He’s embarrassed and he’s worried that some other cat saw him being very ungraceful. It’s against the Cat Code, you know, to be ungraceful.

When I drive home from work now, I can see the sun. The days are getting longer and I scramble for my sunglasses to protect my winter eyes. It has been so long since the sun has visited full strength that I rush for the dark glasses with the 100% UV protection. In the summer, I just wear sunglasses all the time. When I’m outside they are on my face and when I’m inside they are on my head. During the winter, they hide in my purse. Right now I’m in limbo between the two. Sometimes they are on my face, sometimes they are in my hair and sometimes they are hiding in their case in my purse.

The footprints on my windshield leave little shadows on the passenger side chair. I try not to look at them while I’m driving. I am driving; I should be watching the road. I should not be staring at the sun, or looking at the cat’s prints on my windshield or following the shadow of those prints on the seat next to me or even composing my next entry in my mind. I should be keeping my full attention on driving safely so that I will be able to stay alive long enough to get used to the returning sun, clean off those footprints and write my next entry.