Cat on The Keyboard and Other Excuses

One evening at 11:00 p. m. I sat down at my desk with the lofty goal of putting my thoughts down on paper. Well it wasn’t exactly pen to paper. I was sitting at my computer using word processor that allows me to backspace and delete. Anyway I had a head full of thoughts I was trying to get organized. I took a deep breath and began to type. I hadn’t even completed a sentence when my cat jumped up to sit in front of the monitor.

Bindilu (my gray striped tabby) sat with his face glued to the screen batting at the cursor while I tried peering around him to type. I attempted to get rid of him by telling him to move, but he simply ignored me. Finally I took a deep breath and gave him a shove that landed him on a pile of mail sitting on my desk. Fortunately he decided his monitor play had exhausted him and he curled up on my electric bill to take a nap.

I now had a clear view of my monitor. All those thoughts could now be…..could be…Could be what? My cat distraction had all my brilliant witticisms jumbled up again. My original plan was to sit down to write a poem about wind chimes. That inspiration had come to me from listening to them play their music outside my window. What had once been sweet poetry of love’s tune blowing in the wind had now turned into an annoying clank. The romance had gone out of my writing.

With love no longer working for me I thought perhaps I would write about a giant Lady bug I saw yesterday. I began with….Sitting in the park I glanced up to see a Lady bug the size of a professional basketball player making it’s way down the hillside. That gigantic insect was being escorted……pmgvdw------------

Not again! Bindilu had awakened from his nap. In order to reach my lap he had taken a stroll across the keyboard. In his self absorbed feline world it was time to have his ears rubbed. It didn’t matter to him that my literary genius was being squelched by his antics.

I decided I had had enough. All the thoughts in my head were now more of those befitting a Stephen King novel. I was either going to do Bindilu great harm or toss him on the floor and walk away. I debated for a moment and decided to give the chubby feline a toss. He landed on all fours with a look that told me I hadn’t seen the last of him. With one quick expletive tossed his way I stomped out of the library to drown my frustration in late night re-runs on TV. Writings of amour would just have to wait until another day!

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