I’ve been to the psychologist tonight, and that’s more tiring than a week of work, a challenging rehearsal, and several hard gym sessions all put together. I’m exhausted and I just want to sleep, and I was too tired to cook when I got home so I ate crap, which means that now I have preservatives eating my brain. I’m fine – just tired – but not up to much.
Then Mia, my very large, five-year-old kitten (she’s only been with me a couple of months, and settling in and making herself at home seems to be synonymous with regressing to beautiful kittenhood) brought me a piece of red raffia ribbon which she filched from my strangely dwindling supply of present-wrapping paraphernalia. She firmly requested the String Game.
I was not in the mood for the String Game. But have you ever tried to say no to a cat? And Mia has had her fair share of difficulty in life, and I haven’t known her all that long but I love her to bits already, so I somewhat resentfully obliged.
And she was purring, and there were the two of us lying on the floor under the table, playing the String Game (I need to vacuum), and even though I am tired enough that I feel like I could sleep for several months, I found myself giggling and then laughing, and we were play-fighting and she was purring – and it was nice.
I’m still tired and I still feel like I could sleep for several months, and this is a really crappy blog entry, but I spent fifteen minutes on the floor with an over-sized kitten playing a stupid game and sharing a simple friendship, and it was nice.
That’s all, really.