After the cat dragged me out of bed simply because he wanted me to refill the food containers, he did the usual trick of sitting there, watching patiently until I walk off, then goes over to the bowl, sniffs, then walks off.
OK, he didn’t need to wake me up if he was going to do that.
Stern words are spoken but it’s water off a duck’s back (or cat’s back if you like).
I’m annoyed and he’s, well, he’s just a pain in the neck.
Now that I’m up I might as well get some work done. I think about breakfast, for about a minute, and decide it’s too hard to make toast. Yes, it’s that kind of morning.
Maybe. I put the kettle on as a token gesture of doing something, and go out to the writing room.
I’m calling it that for now, because we’re getting into the halfway mark of NaNoWriMo, and it’s proceeding well, which means, of course, that somethings going to happen, and the wheels are going to come off.
I turn on the laptop, and after waiting the usual five minutes, I have the logon screen and no mouse. It’s been acting erratically for a few days but that’s windows anyway.
So, I have a dead mouse.
Should I give it to Chester to play with?
I change the batteries, usually the problem, but to no avail.
Good thing then we have a few spares because when the granddaughters are over, they are prone to dropping them on the ground and breaking them. I have a drawer full of dead mice.
One day Chester will be happy, or not. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking.
New mouse, wait for it to install, back to work.
Kettle’s boiled, new distraction, might as well get coffee.
Maybe I’ll get back to work later.