As the resident narcoleptic, this is something I do a lot. I’m doing it now, as a matter of fact. I’ve spent so much time typing, whether for work or other purposes, that I can more or less touch type (without ever having been trained – this is purely muscle memory that doesn’t have anything to do with the official touch typing rules) well enough to type while half asleep (or even all the way asleep) and still produce readable results.
For a given value of readable, I suppose. I do ramble when I’m overtired, after all.
At the moment, I’m counting down the days to a week and change of vacation time. Two more work days, then I can rest and recoup from six months without any time off – which is more or less the norm in my life, but it doesn’t make me any less tired.
It’s a combination of things. I tend to hoard vacation time for when I’ll “need it”, and keep it to two major chunks. One in the middle of the year, and one near the end of the year. I’ve got nearly 4 work weeks to play with, so I’ll usually take a week or so mid-year, 2 weeks near the end, then starting around September-ish I’ll start using up the rest in long weekends.
On top of that, I’ve got an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. You know the type – the one who picks up everyone else’s stuff until they don’t have the energy left to manage their own because somewhere along the line (probably when I was an itty-bitty mad genius and was at the beach with family, playing in the kiddy-sized waves when a bigger one than normal scared the liver out of me and I ran for it – completely forgetting little sister was also playing. Panicked parents tore me a new one for not being responsible, and I got the wrong end of the pineapple) I managed to get the idea that my welfare is less important than anyone else’s.
I kind of hope to be somewhere closer to wakefulness when I do next week’s post, seeing as how I’ll be mid vacation then.
So that’s the state of the Kate. There’s no storms lurking around at the moment, so no chance of the spectacle that happened the other day when a truly spectacular thunderclap had Midnight and Westley practically levitate, spin 180 degrees in the air, and race for cover. I’d swear the legs were going before the paws hit the ground. Really impressive when Westley started from a curled up asleep in the kitty bed position and Midnight was sitting on the air conditioner looking out the window.
Of course, Midnight has already suffered one crushing disappointment today: he was in his spot looking out the window when he heard The Husband coming downstairs, and suddenly there was a thump and a streak of black towards the kitchen in the hopes of the good cat food. Hopes that were cruelly dashed because the three of them had already been fed for the evening and weren’t getting extras. They’re fat enough without us overfeeding them.
Today’s photo is Westley being as angelic as he gets, while he sits in his kitty bed and supervises.
Cats are always angelic!
….Satan is an angel….. 😉
That sums things up nicely. And yes, it’s so very true.
You might not be the only one, Kate. As I age time passes much faster — that may be it. But sometimes I relax and it’s suddenly an hour later. I don’t know what happened. I mentioned this to my “primary care” provider; she offered “tests” but I declined since my experience with medical theater has not exactly been encouraging.
i thought of you yesterday when Sqeeky stalked through the clutter on the low table, jumped up on the high table — bare except for a small box of deworming medicine I put there to remind me to use it. She summarily whisked it off the table, straightened tall as cats do, and stared at me with the “you got a problem with that?” look. As you once replied, kitties gotta kitty.
Oh, I hear you. Tests that won’t tell you anything worthwhile really aren’t much use unless you’re looking for the kind of test that will tell you you don’t have cancer or some other nasty.
And yes, that is indeed a cat who is catting to perfection.
Athena has been the Velcro™cat since I got back from the Hill Country. She loudly importunes everyone for attention, and insists on staying where she can keep an eye on us. This gets distracting at times.
But of course. Ours have the human-minding duties nicely portioned out. Three cats and two humans means the humans always have at least one cat supervising and begging for attention.
Of course, when Buttercup wants attention you get the metal-bending Siamese voice – but life wouldn’t be the same without the little fuzzy diva. I’m a sucker for the big blue eyes.
Your Athena will settle down. Eventually. Until you go away again.
May previous cat used to like to sit behind the monitor where he could get scritchies. He also discovered he could spin the track all get my attention…
Our current car prefers to settle in just behind the keyboard, basking in the warm glow of the monitor. Then he rests his head on the function keys. All the function keys…
But of course. The keyboard is a fancy cat massager, didn’t you know? And they call the thing a mouse because it’s just the right size and shape for the kitties to chase and bat around the house and kill…
(We have two trackball mice at the moment. One of them is partially dismembered because one of the cats knocked it off the desk so they could play with the rolling ball which makes such a nice noise on the floorboards…)
Sigh. I almost wish that any of my cats did that – but Isabelle prefers to steal my chair at the computer when I vacate it, although she has learned to scoot off to the foot of the bed when I return to start work…
Currently, my most frequent companion whilst at the computer is the Grandson Unit, five weeks old today, and demanding of bottle feeding every two or three hours, day and night.
Fortunate that I have a knack of being able to prop him along my legs and hold the bottle with one hand, while I scroll and mouse-click with the other. Or even put him on the bed and prop up the bottle with a wadded-up swaddling blanket. This is disapproved of by all early child-hood experts, as I am told, but a necessity for parents and other caregivers wishing to retain their sanity, and to continue with writing and editing projects…
But… it’s her chair! You’re just warming it up for her.
And grandchild units tend to keep the felines at a bit of a distance when they’re not shunning you for favoring the ickle hooman over them. (Congrats on the grandchild, BTW)