Oh, dear gods.
She drinks tea, too.
I have a brand-new wide-mouthed mug with herbs all over it. It fits kitten heads quite nicely, apparently. Kitten heads attached to bodies which evidently like the taste of lukewarm Twinings Lady Grey.
Enough, you cat. Shoo with you. You are distracting me (a) from my freelance work that pays for your kibble, and (b) from my novel.
Go play with your Auntie Maggie, or chase Roman’s tail, or something.
I’m having a bit of difficulty typing this morning, because there’s a kitten sitting in front of my monitor.
Yes, she has discovered the computer. At first, she just wanted to sit on my lap and purr adoringly. Being with her human was enough. Then, she wanted to see what all the clicks were about. Keyboard; okay. Then, ah then, she happened to look up as I moved my mouse across the screen, and it was love at first sight. Now she climbs from my lap over the keyboard (adding Xs and Ks and the odd Q, deleting other stuff, pulling up a couple of screens I’ve never seen before in my browser) and sits right in front of the monitor, watch my pointer as I navigate, or my whirling propellor “working” icon.
Okay, she’s moved to the stack of NaNo reference book I have piled next to the monitor. Gads, she’s cute. This is teeth-rotting cuteness. You’re lucky I don’t have a digital camera, or it would be, “here’s my kitten being cute”, and “here’s my kitten being painfully adorable”. (Please don’t knock the books over, darling, or you will plummet from cute to gaspingly laughable, and I’m drinking tea, here. That dictionary balanced on the very top may look solid, but it has two mass-market paperbacks underneath it.) She’s managed to lie down so that she can look down and crane her head around the edge of the monitor and watch the words appear on the screen.
Gah. Who needs honey in their tea when they have a kitten?
I’m still working on the seasonal gift list my parents asked me for a couple of weeks ago. I’m terrible at brainstorming a list of stuff I want. Evidently I shall have to take an afternoon and wander through a large bookstore and make notes of what strikes my fancy, and then do the same at a music store. Ikea gift cetificates are always good too, I suppose; inevitably I end up needing at least one more bookshelf per year.
I’m having dinner with Ceri, Marc, and Annika tonight (anyone dares to make a Marc’s Angels joke and they’re toast)… maybe I’ll go downtown a little early and do some browsing. All in the name of finishing these gift lists, of course.