Time Lag

It is Thursday.

I had convinced myself it was Friday.

I must now face the reality that I have another work day ahead of me tomorrow.

Goddamn it.

Work this week has largely consisted of training four other coworkers in a fairly rule-intensive indexing job, so I’ve been doing a lot of getting up and flitting between desks in order to address issues and answer questions. Training employees is work that I generally enjoy, despite my shyness and awkwardness (and overabundance of quips and boring jokes). It certainly makes the work day go by faster.

My week’s been pretty alright, is what I’m saying.

I just wish it were already the weekend.

A black and white furred cat lays stretched out and bored-looking on top of a kitchen table.

I sat down to do a bit of writing before bed tonight, and managed a couple of paragraphs before sleepiness took hold, but as is often the case these days, Scout simply had to add in his two cents before I closed the window. His contribution to this sentence-in-progress is as follows:

If the universe and the collective imagination/imaginary share the same property of being without known limit, then perhaps they are, 000000000.222222222222222222222222222   (by Scout)

You know… it isn’t half bad.

I had a real titter over his good grasp of theme.

Which reminds me: earlier this week Scout gave me both a bit of a scare and a bark of a laugh when I settled in for a bubble bath. He started out very wary of the tub, and has gradually grown incredibly fond of hiding in it to ambush me from behind the shower curtain, as well as being incredibly fond of watching the tub fill with water or peeking around the curtain at the fountain of water when I’m taking a shower.

A black and white furred cat, its forepaws perched over the edge of a bathtub filling with bubbly water, looks back at the camera with an inquisitive expression of devastating cuteness.

When I’m relaxing in the bath, he likes to sit by the door and supervise, peer over the edge of the tub, or else walk along said edge and touch the surface of the water with his paw.

A black and white furred cat inspects his waterlogged tail and back paw miserably.

Well, earlier this week it finally happened: Scout slipped and got a scare when half of his body got drenched with bathwater. He didn’t injure himself, thankfully! But he resented the tub for the rest of the night and slunk off (after I patted away the excess water on his fur with a towel) to lick himself dry.

He looked so miserable I didn’t want to laugh, but he was alright… and it was hilariously cute.

In case you’re wondering: he harbours no lingering ill-will toward the tub. The next morning, when it was again dry, he hopped in and proceeded to ambush me while I sat on the toilet. As usual.

All is well.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *