Originally, I prepared a sleeping bag and planned to spend the night in the editing room. After chatting with the professor at seven o'clock, I felt a tingling in the back of my head, and I thought about it and went home.

I warmed up yesterday's meal at home, rubbed my roommate with a Coke chicken wing, lay on the bed, and watched a short movie. The plantain leaves by the window gradually made a rustling sound, becoming denser and denser.

It's raining.

There was rain but no wind. No rain was blowing through the windows. Rainwater. What a metaphor the rain has in my mind. I immediately wanted to cry.

A friend X encountered a stray cat on the set, and he took it to the rescue station. Yesterday he said that if no one wanted it, he would take it back and raise it. I said okay, I haven't been to the aid station yet, I'll go with you.

When I arrived at the aid station, there were all kinds of dogs in the stinking cages, most of which were pit bulls with fierce expressions. I'm a little scared when I see this kind of dog on the road. But seeing that they were the ones who were abandoned, I was very sad for them. Somebody walked by, and they ran around the door, screaming.

There are all kinds of cats in the small cage, some of them meowing and some of them are motionless. The one X saved was just a ginger with long hair, and his expression was very quiet. When I saw him coming, I began to cry out softly.

When he went to register, he said, it's troublesome, I forgot to bring my ID.

Ever since I forgot my passport and was stopped by Global Guard, I haven't had my documents with me. I said I brought it. So, somehow, nominally, this little orange became my cat.

We drove home in the afterglow of the sunset, and the sky was covered with purple-red clouds with a hint of gold trim. Showers suddenly poured down on the car windows. In the dim twilight, the traffic is divided into two orderly streams, the white headlights go to the suburbs, and the red taillights go to the city.

My fingers scratched Tachibana's ears one after the other. X said, she didn't scream, so good. I took my hand away and looked at her. She poked her head out, put her paws on the edge of the cardboard box, and looked around with wide-eyed eyes.

X said, let's call it a pumpkin. I was a little surprised when I heard that it was the South. I said okay. Then he said, because she's always going to gain weight.

But in the end her name changed to sweet potato.

Halfway through the car, I was already too hungry to do any activity. My last meal was last night, and I said I had a chicken wing on set. It seems like I ate that same meal that day. So we went to dinner, a Thai restaurant, and the recommended menu featured a roast pork knuckle. We waited until we drank all the milk tea, and the waiter forgot about us, and then the elbow came up, the skin was thin and the meat was tender, and it was unexpectedly delicious. In fact, it's super delicious. We both looked at each other with forks in our hands, and our expressions were very shaken.

Moved 2019, X said, second place, super delicious pork knuckle, first place, cat that doesn't cry in the car.

I got out of the car with my packed elbows and the pleasure lasted for about ten minutes, only to be replaced by a rush of anxiety and frustration: the power of the portable hard drive was not enough, the project files could not be opened, and so on. When I got home at 11 p.m., my mind was filled with a sense of despair. When I was lying in bed, I remembered that my elbow had also fallen in school, and I thought it must have been thrown away by the cleaner.

X sent me a picture: washed the cat.

I created a new calendar, November 19. I said okay, I'll count today as her birthday.