It's Like This

My computer is under the cat somewhere, but the furry tyrant is not in the mood to negotiate. He’s hungry. He’s loud. He’s lost any measure of patience he might once have had. He could not care less about bills or emails or deadlines. He especially does not care about the dog. He could maybe tolerate one of the children, as long as he had their undivided attention, but they – in an act of premeditated and unadulterated selfishness – have left for school. The second best option to the lap is the warm laptop. He will not be deterred. And he will not be ignored.

So I turn my attention to the crabby kitty, and that is how today will go. On days like this, I do my best to surrender, to dredge up a modicum of patience and kindness, to experience a sense of accomplishment in some place other than my go-to to-do list, to trust, to find a flow within the unanticipated course, to be attentive to what joys the unexpected path might bring, to honor the intrusive feline moment.