I’m not sure what to make of the female’s mood when she spends the majority of the day in frantic cleaning mode. It always starts out slow, picking up a few dishes and throwing out some trash. Then her eyes start to narrow at every light-blocking smudge on the windows and at my tumblefurs blowing across the concrete floor. Before I can seek cover she is brooming, vacuuming and mopping every surface of the apartment. I don’t mean to complain because the place was in need of little tidying up, but ever time I tried to ease back into a sunny sleep position on the windowsill, the vacuum was flicked on once again. I don’t mind the noise so much, but ever since she tried to vacuum me I prefer to stay out of the same room as a working vacuum. I don’t think she would make another vacuuming assault in my direction, as we both have painful memories of her last attempt (her pain being of the physical variety). At least the place is clean now and I feel like a can walk across the room without licking the remnants of human sloth off my paws.
I’m not sure what brings on these cleaning fits, but it seems to happen about once a month for her. I like to tidy up my living area before starting on a project, but I’ve yet to see any signs of a new project for her.
On a completely unrelated note, I’ve been thinking about entering the 3-day novel writing contest next weekend. Last year, I watched the male imbibe gross amounts of coffee while pecking away at his laptop for three days and I thought “That could be me.” (Curious readers can check out his story at Scribd)
There are a few reasons I’m reluctant to enter the contest. Firstly, last years winner looks like an idiot. Unfortunately no excerpt of his book is provided to get a clear view of his writing style, but the plot appears to be rather barbaric. Do humans really need another Chuck Palahniuk churning out their vulgarities? This story may impress the panel of monkeys they have judging the contest, but it feels to me like an easy gimmick.
Secondly, the entrance fee is a rather large hindrance for an unemployed cat. I’m hoping to talk my roommates into fronting me the money. I should have no problem paying them back once my masterpiece reaches the bookshelves.
Thirdly, I require 16 hours minimum of sleep daily.
At least this would give me something to do over the long Labor Day Weekend. Labor Day is one of the more infuriating holidays humans have come up with. As it is, I detest all weekends and I’m not looking forward to another long one. Weekdays give me the structure I need. I get up for my morning saucer of tea and watch the humans get ready for work, then relax in the peace until lunch time comes around. It comforts me knowing that someone has a schedule which I can set my routine to. The 3-day novel writing contest might be a welcome distraction from the chaos of an unscheduled Labor Day weekend.