Here's a quickie. When I wake up in the morning, I usually sit at my desk for a few minutes and jot down my list of stuff I have to do, try to remember what day it is, and generally get organized.
Lately, that meditative time, the only time I set aside for myself, has been altered, significantly.
Instead of focusing on how stiff my shoulder is, how my eyes are still bleary, what I was dreaming just now, and what I face in the day, I sit at my desk with my pen in hand and try to figure out how to write in a notebook that is shielded almost completely by cat butt and cat paws.
Blitz sits on my notebook, believing with his whole heart that this is the time in the morning during which I devote both hands and sometimes my cheek to petting him and telling him what a good baby he is. It's all about Blitz time, nothing else to do but sit here on this clean sheet of paper and bat around that long stick I brought for him to play with.
Thank you for listening, jb
Lately, that meditative time, the only time I set aside for myself, has been altered, significantly.
Instead of focusing on how stiff my shoulder is, how my eyes are still bleary, what I was dreaming just now, and what I face in the day, I sit at my desk with my pen in hand and try to figure out how to write in a notebook that is shielded almost completely by cat butt and cat paws.
Blitz sits on my notebook, believing with his whole heart that this is the time in the morning during which I devote both hands and sometimes my cheek to petting him and telling him what a good baby he is. It's all about Blitz time, nothing else to do but sit here on this clean sheet of paper and bat around that long stick I brought for him to play with.
Thank you for listening, jb
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