Sunday, January 23, 2011

The Fuzzy Monster in the Way

I am trying to be diligent with my writing. Really, I am.

But I am distracted. Call it writer's block or too many internet distractions(though I did get a high score in Zuma Blitz), there's a cool new writers forum I've joined (does posting and critiquing on that site qualify as writing time? You have to have 50 posts to submit work, so, in a way, I am working toward a goal...). Then there is "Every Word" on my Kindle. Games and diversions everywhere.

I am ready now. I have my new, improved playlist on the iPod, courtey of yesterday's distraction. I have my earbuds in place. "30 Seconds to Mars" playing, TV off, no internet, and dinner percolating in the crock pot. No, I did not make venison stew. Mr.W. put that together before trudging off to work.

I have no excuses.

Except there is one problem. I am typing around a rather large, very fuzzy, determined and affectionate cat. He keeps trying to get on my lap. Or, when that plan fails, he sprawls across my keyboard. He's already booted me off my page twice, left trails of gray hair on the screen. Cousin It, is that you??

My mouse has been dumped on the floor, right next to my iPhone. Did you know the songs reshuffle when the phone hits the ground? I do, now.

I am free from his direct attention, for a moment, as he bathes. He pauses his ferverent licking, to fix me with a stare that skewers his displeasure. Here he was, all nice, showering me with feline love, only to be shoved like garbage onto the floor. Near the dogs! Horrors! Don't I know that the Egyptians worhipped his species? That he has big cousins that would love to call me "dinner?"

As penance, I take a short break and rub his feet -yes, he's an odd kitty. He has tufts of fur that stick out between his toes. They must get itchy, because he spreads them out, and he sings with pleasure. My servitude is rewarded with a quick sandpapery swipe of his tongue. And with a modicum of peace.

Contented, he is sprawled next to my computer, away from my typing fingers, sing-song purring, and watching in that condescending manner cats have. Now I can get to work.

So what should I write about?

No comments:

Post a Comment