Sweet purrender

So I'm sat down to write for my blog and stressing because I can't think of what to write. Well, and I'm also stressing about whether I should work on my novel. Oh, and I'm also stressing because I have another writing project that is coming along. Well, two other writing projects. If you're keeping track, these stresses are all things I've put on myself. Oh, and there's grief! Which always helps with stress.

So with all these projects to work on, I ended up doing nothing but stare at the computer screen, schvitzing. Then, one of my cats, the one that used to belong to my wife, hopped into my lap. Annoyed the hell out of me, but I figured what the hell? Not like he interrupted me working. I started petting him. Then my cat came over and looked up with those big ol' jealous eyes of his. My wife's cat went up on the back of my chair (with some gentle shoving) and my cat took the newly-available lap. And for a while, I tested my multitasking skills, trying to pet two cats (who don't like each other) simultaneously (one of which was behind me).

With all my writey efforts and a regular job as well, my life has started to feel pretty complicated. Cats are simple. It's hard to imagine something so incredibly simple as petting a cat when your mind is running in several different circles. That's why they like to invade our space: to remind us that when we aren't sure what we should be doing, but have a million things to do, maybe the best thing to do is none of them: just pet a cat (if you don't like/don't have cats, then the cat is a metaphor).