What is a sure-fire way to distract you from the task at hand?
Headphones on. Music up. Candle burning a pleasant aroma. The phone has been abandoned to another room. Messenger app has been muted. The muse is lounging peacefully. Fingers flying across the keyboard. The words are flowing. I’m in a groove. Peak productivity has been achieved.
And then it happens.
A cat comes flying into the room. He jumps onto the bed and meows. His tail is straight and flicking playfully. His big green eyes beg me to chase him. “Not now Tony, mama has to write.”
But Tony is a cat, and a petulant child, and he does not care for my nightly ritual. He demands snuggles, but does not want to be held. I turn back to my keyboard.
Ten seconds later he is rustling in the bags in the corner. This noise grates on me like nails on a chalkboard for other people. I turn around to shoo him away. He stares at me with an intelligent look that says, “What? I wasn’t doing anything. But since I have your attention anyway, let’s play!”
I chase him out. He runs down the hall to the living room. I resume my writing. A minute or two later, I feel a gentle tap on my elbow. He is at the side of my chair, standing on his hind legs with his front paws on the arm of my computer chair. His big eyes plead with me for scritches. I try to pick him up and put him in my lap.
This has a success rate of about 30%. If I also put a pillow or blanket in my lap and set him in the makeshift nest, this rate increases to about 65%. If I get him to sit, he spends a while grooming himself. Which then turns into grooming me. I do not approve of his little sandpaper tongue on my skin and must move my arm lest he lick me for ten minutes.
He is very soft. My husband marvels at how soft he is for a domestic shorthair. “He still has kitten fur!” he cries every time he pets Tony. Personally I think it’s just because Tony is a runt and therefore smaller and therefore his fur is sleeker. It makes sense in my head. But oh my gosh is he so soft. And given how rare it is for him to nestle into a lap, I am constantly overcome with emotions watching him sleep in my lap while I attempt to write. Attempt, because I keep stopping to pet him. So. Soft.
“But Sara,” you cry, “couldn’t you just shut the door?” You would be right. The door will close. I could be the one to close it. But I love him. And he is so cute. Even if he is a petulant child.
Notes: Other things that will distract me: talking to me, giving me food, the wormhole that is the internet when I’m searching for a reference.
That’s it for this week. As always, I will be back on Sunday with a fresh list of prompts for you. Have a great weekend!