I’m not your personal jester. I know it looks like I’m not doing much, sitting here very still with just my fingers moving. But I am actually typing. And I am typing words that turn into pay. And pay turns into things like food. And heat. Things that you enjoy.
So, in the future, I would kindly ask you that you not treat me as your personal plaything. This means:
No whining when you’re bored.
Please stop jumping on me.
Don’t make sudden, loud noises. I am often in a state of deep concentration, and they tend to scare me.
Quit looking at me expectantly everytime I stand up. It is not game time.
And, since he doesn’t understand me, would you please kindly tell the cat to stop laying in front of the monitor? I mean, I know it’s warm and all, but come on. It’s really hard to write with his 20 pound mass sitting right in front of my screen.
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Oh, gee. I have a cat that likes to lay across my arms when I’m typing. So not conducive to actually getting anything done. I feel bad for her, though, because as my pregnancy progresses, her lap spot keeps getting smaller and smaller. 😉
Oh, gee. I have a cat that likes to lay across my arms when I’m typing. So not conducive to actually getting anything done. I feel bad for her, though, because as my pregnancy progresses, her lap spot keeps getting smaller and smaller. 😉
poor kitty! haha! I LOVE your blog, Lorna. Sometimes it’s like reading my mind.