Well, this is it. It’s 6 AM and I’m already (as my college roommate used to say) “Clothed and in my right mind.”
(Well, I’m not so sure about the right mind part, but at least I’m showered and clothed)
If I’m going to get serious about spending time writing in the morning, I might as well be shaved and showered, right? At least I’ll smell nice for… no one.
My cat is pawing at my feet, almost as if wanting attention without wanted to be held or pet. She meows loudly when I scratch her head, and then leaves for a moment or to of exploration under the desk before returning for another scratch. I love the way she looks at me, the way she responds, when I scratch her little head. It’s like it is the best thing ever for her, getting a gentle head-massage on top of my attention for a few seconds.
During these warmer summer months, she has been what we affectionately refer to as a “fur-bomb”, shedding all over the house. Vacuuming has become a task more often completed as we continue to find small tufts of fur around the house, a small reminder that at one point during her day, our kitty has spent time in this spot.
When we are not paying attention to her, she likes to cuddle up among my books, picking a comfortable literary companion to curl up next to for a good nap. I’m pretty sure she has slept next to the likes of Lamott, Rilke, and even has spent some time sleeping on the New Testament. ignoring the whole section of scripture about the word of God being like a sword… (or a comfy one if nothing else).