Mochi Moments

     There I was, lying on my couch, scrolling through yet another engagement announcement, when Mochi (my cat, my roommate, my fluffy overlord) hopped onto my lap and gave me that look.

    You know the one—the look of pure judgment.

    Mochi, in all his gray, majestic, mildly condescending glory, stared deep into my soul like he was evaluating my entire existence. He flicked his tail, yawned, and then promptly turned his back on me—a clear sign that he, a superior being, had officially lost respect for my life choices.

    I sighed and scratched his head.

    “Mochi,” I whispered. “Why is everyone getting married and having kids when I still feel like a child?”

    Mochi blinked slowly, stretched, and then proceeded to lick his own butt.

    Ah, wisdom.

    Lesson 1: Mochi Does Not Care About Other Cats’ Life Choices

    Mochi has never once scrolled through Instagram wondering why the cat from across the street is already a father of six while he still spends his days napping in sunspots. He does not compare his fluffy little life to anyone else’s.

    He does not sit around thinking, “Should I have settled down with that tabby I met at the vet’s office? Is it weird that I still chase my own tail?”

    Nope. Mochi minds his own business and enjoys his life exactly as it is—snacks, naps, chaos, repeat.

    Meanwhile, I’m out here spiraling because Becky from high school just announced her pregnancy, and I’m still struggling to remember which day is trash day.

    Maybe it’s time to be more like Mochi.

    Lesson 2: Mochi Fully Believes He Is the Main Character (And He’s Right)

    Mochi struts through life with the confidence of a celebrity who just won an Oscar. He walks into a room like he owns it (and, honestly, he probably does). If I make eye contact with him for too long, he flicks his tail like “Excuse me, peasant, why are you staring at greatness?”

    He does not seek approval. He does not wait for external validation. He is, without a doubt, the center of his own universe.

    And honestly? I respect it.

    Meanwhile, I catch myself thinking:

“Should I be further along in life?”

“Am I weird for still feeling like a teenager in an adult’s body?”

“Am I the only one who still eats cereal for dinner sometimes?”

    Mochi does not care about such things. Mochi assumes he is perfect and that the world should adapt to him, not the other way around.

    Maybe—just maybe—it’s time to start walking through life with Mochi energy.

    Lesson 3: Mochi Takes Naps Like His Life Depends on It

    While I am running on caffeine, stress, and existential dread, Mochi is napping. All the time.

        If I stress out about the future? Mochi naps.

        If I complain about being behind in life? Mochi naps.

        If I say something ridiculous like “I should probably be more responsible”? Mochi stares at me, blinks, and then takes another nap.

    Because Mochi understands something that I clearly do not—rest is not a weakness.

    So what if other people are out there doing “adult things” like buying houses and planning weddings? Maybe the real flex is being well-rested and unbothered.

  What Would Mochi Do?

        Would Mochi compare himself to other cats? No.

        Would Mochi let society’s expectations ruin his perfectly good nap? Absolutely not.

        Would Mochi eat an entire bag of treats in one sitting and then act like nothing happened? Yes. And same.

    So next time I feel like a failure because I’m not “on track” with everyone else’s life plans, I will channel the wisdom of Mochi:

    Take a nap. Eat a snack. Stop worrying about things that don’t matter. And most importantly—strut through life like you own the place.

    Because honestly? You do.