1. Stay in bed awhile after waking, reading a novel; get up a bit late.
2. After getting up, always a flask of black coffee to start the morning – NOT instant. (Never instant!)
3. Straight from breakfast to computer; get caught there for hours, writing poems and an article, posting a photo.
4. Loud knock on door. Man to check smoke alarm. Apologise for being still in pyjamas; turn it into mildly jokey remark, pretending insouciance.
5. Close door to room where cat is sleeping, so smoke alarm man can’t accidentally let her outside, about which I am unapologetically paranoid. (In truth she is fast asleep.)
6. (Shutting gate after horse has bolted) decide to shower and change into actual day wear before getting lunch.
7. Naked daily witchy ritual between shower and dressing (brief; got it down pat after many moons of regular practice).
8. Very late lunch, while reading more of the novel.
9. Do dishes from last night and today-so-far. Feel virtuous.
10. Decide bed-making can wait until later.
11. Put out garbage bins. Discover, while doing so, huge dog shit on front lawn (I do not have a dog). Decide to leave it for now and pretend I don’t know it’s there; maybe nice, kind lawn-mowing man will deal with it next time he’s here.
12. Finally remember, guiltily, to open door to cat’s room, thankful she’s still asleep.
13. At last settle back at computer. Check mail; nothing yet from printer to say my books are ready. WHY did I tell her I didn’t need them until October? Do not jump up and down and scream. Write something. (This something.) Interruptions: squawking cat waking up and demanding attention, plus very close claps of thunder. Switch everything off and lie down with cat and novel.
Written for Thursday Thirteen for 31 August 2023.
Sounds a lot like my days. Throw in taking pictures of spider webs for the naked witchy ritual and put in bear scat for dog doo.
ReplyDeleteHa ha, glad to find out it is indeed a typical writer's day.
DeleteThat sounds like a writer's day. One of my favorite books on writing said that every writer needs a wife - because otherwise all of that "stuff" is always there, a niggle in the back of the mind, waiting to be done (making the bed, washing dishes, letting out the cat . . .).
ReplyDeleteHa, further confirmation I am not alone in all this. (What is the book, please?)
DeleteI'm also paranoid about any of our cats getting outside. One of ours got out two years ago. Thankfully, we found her safe after 36 hours, but that was a miserable 36 hours, so now I'm super paranoid about any of them getting out.
ReplyDeleteMy little darling is elderly, and has been profoundly deaf all her life, so I am particularly concerned that she doesn't get into danger. I mean, I wouldn't even be able to call her because she wouldn't hear – let alone hear various perils out there. I'm glad you found yours and can imagine the dread of those 36 hours – for her as well as you, no doubt!
Delete#5: As a lifelong cat lady, I get it. Part of why I've never lived in a ground floor apartment is worry over how easy it would be for a cat to slip out a broken window if I got robbed. Now here I am, worrying about a robbery that likely would never take place and if it did, why would they break a window? Because I worry about my cats, that's why!
ReplyDeleteHa ha, and I in turn get it about what you say!
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