Why My Cat Is Inherently Cooler Than You

A few months ago, my mom brought home a free cat she found on the side of the road somewhere. I'm not much of an animal person, but animals, such as cool-ass cats are not as awful as people. I named my new gray kitten Daria, after my favorite '90's cartoon character and cynical teenage sarcasm muse. I've had many a cat, but Daria is fucking awesome. As I type, she's sitting right next to me, watching as I type all this mundane bullshit. She's made me realize that while humans may be shitheads, cats are good people. They make great companions, easygoing friends, and don't require a whole lot of maintenance or emotional support. Daria doesn't voice her opinions to me. She doesn't seek my attention. She comes and goes as she pleases and only asks that I provide her with a lap to purr on, a little food and water, and a clean litter box. I think people could learn a lot about common decency from my cat, who is now profusely licking my stench off of her fur. If only people were that hygienic. Occasionally, she gets a little pissed off or perhaps she's just curious, and will try to climb on top of me and then scratch me. But, unlike dog bites, cat scratches don't scar me up like a domestic violence victim. I have deeper scars from shaving nicks. I'd honestly like to take my cat with me when I go away to college next year (One more year of high school, one more year of high school...), which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for my school friends and immediate family members.