Time is passing
I barely got a wink of sleep last night. A certain white furry cat wanted to be cuddled all night long.
His routine involves pouncing on me (and winding me, natch) to wake me up. He requires my full attention at all times during cuddling. So I get my breath back and roll onto my back, and then the kneading starts. He adores it, especially when he headbutts me at the same time. I like it, in that pleasure/pain way. I could live without the bruising that it causes across my chest and neck, but it makes him so happy, and since he is such a miserable bastard of a cat during daylight, well, I can cope with it.
So after a good ten minutes of that, it is time for the hug and roll manoeuvre. He finally lays down on my chest (which is nice and tenderised by this point) and puts his head into my neck. That is my cue to put my arms around him, and roll onto my left side - he hasn't mastered rolling onto my right. He rolls with me, and ends up cuddled along my side with his head on my shoulder and his paws around my neck, all the while purring into my ear. Now I am allowed to sleep again.
That lasts anywhere up to a couple of hours, and then the whole thing starts again. It usually repeats every half an hour, so that means that I get to sleep in 15 minute bites.
Ellie usually comes up as well. I remember last night thinking that Harvey was sleeping on my back (I had rolled onto my stomach) because I could feel a cat. I opened my eyes and realised that Harvey was on my pillow an inch from my face, staring straight at me. That is terrifying at the best of times, but since I thought he was on my back, I was also very confused. I rolled over to see who was on my back and found Miss Ellie doing exactly the same. I jumped about a foot in the air and banged my head on the ceiling. Harvey didn't even move, but Ellie went to seek comfort from Frankie. I lay back down, and cuddled Harvey until my heart calmed down and we fell asleep.
My heart certainly had a workout - that is not my favourite way to wake up. Statistics show that people are most likely to have a fatal heart attack early in the morning. It makes a lot of sense if the victims all have cats.
Time has passed.......
I am trying to book in some work for the next few months. It seems that the whole world is in a meeting at the moment and will get back to me later. I feel all left out.
I don't believe any of them. No-one will call me back today. I will phone them all back after lunch, one by one, and every single one will lie and say that they were just about to call me back. I need to get some work booked in, or I have to go and work in Margate. That is incentive enough!
I take it back. One person has called back, and she was supposed to be on leave today. That is way too much commitment to the job.
More time has passed......(not very quickly either)
I was playing the Hobbit last night. I remember having it on the C64 years and years ago, and I loved it. I never finished it - the bulbous eyes on the road used to drop out of the tree and kill me, or I'd be captured, escape in a barrel (after much waiting) and drown in the Great River. Dad once got to the dragon and nicked all the gold, and we saved it (on cassette, of course, we are talking about the technological Dark Ages) but we always got killed on that road.
So we got ourselves a C64 emulator so I could have another try. I still can't do it, but my gymnastic moves in Summer Games 1 are coming on a treat.
Not enough time has passed.......
I'm reviewing personnel files. It is one of my favourite jobs, being a Highly Nosy Person, and there are some real gems in them. I'm waiting for more information regarding some concerns raised - if they aren't in the file they must be pretty juicy!!
However, the afternoon isn't exactly flying away from me. And no-one else has returned my calls. So my mind is wandering again.
I've tried to work out why Ellie feels the need to steal clean socks to line her basket, especially when she always sleeps on our bed anyway. She doesn't pounce on them or even try to be sneaky - she just brazenly wanders up and trots cheerfully away with one in her mouth.
I've tried to roll my tongue - I still can't do it. I know it is a genetic trait, but absolutely everyone in my family can roll their tongues so maybe I just don’t know how to do it yet! My parentage isn't in question; I have the right gene pool, so it just isn't fair.
I've tried to work out where teaspoons go. There are just never any in office kitchens. I remember once when I was auditing a large (and horrible) charity, that there was a teaspoon amnesty. They had bought 500 to replace all the missing ones and put them out on a Monday, and by 5pm on Friday, only 17 could be found.
They promised no disciplinary action for those people returning spoons. Real incentive, that. I admit to finding several in the audit room, but I didn't steal all of them. I just borrowed a couple, because my manager wasn't wholly impressed with my stirring-with-a-pen technique. It was my pen, in my tea, that I chewed on anyway, so I didn't really see her problem.
I've even tried to beat my own personal best of holding my breath. I didn't.
Still, all things come to an end, and the long afternoon at work was no exception to that. I've driven home (in the drizzle and fog), had bangers and mash with the Boy and am now home listening to the Baron moan and groan about the pulled muscle in his shoulder.
Looks like a long evening as well.
posted by DMouse007 @ 1/20/2004 07:20:00 PM
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