Tears of a Writer

Another day off. I guess I should use it to clean this nightmare of a mess. Play with Aislyn. Get ready for tomorrow. Bike.

Shane is so sweet. He requests to sit with me. He’ll get by the chair and say “Mow? Mrow?”

We didn’t think he’d be a lap cat when we first got him, but he totally is.

So I’m feeling lately like I haven’t got enough to write about. I’m struggling for a topic, sometimes. I’ve finally found a job that’s drama-free (“or so she thinks,” says the Voice of God. “Until drama finds her.”). Nothing much has changed on the WW front. I’m not reading like I should be.

I’m also tired all the time. That doesn’t help to inspire.

I still have plenty of wardrobe malfunctions, but those are funny the first time at best. I have a feeling you all are tired of hearing about ill-fitting bras and low-riding pants, right?

It’s hard to come up with material everyday that’s somehow new and engaging. Unless I deep-dive into the art of label-printing, or wallow in the woes of my troubled mindset.

It’s also hard to write while Aislyn is making play demands, albeit politely. Don’t worry, readers. There are plenty of times I put my phone away and just play. But she’s like a little playtime succubus. The more playtime you give her, the more she wants. And if you tell her you have some things you have to do, she’ll whine about how no one ever plays with her! What? Really, Aislyn?

I can empathize with her, though, to a certain extent. Desmond is four years ahead of her. They play together wonderfully at times, but sometimes he just wants to be alone. And, like I say, she’s at that age where she really wants to engage in social play. We’ve forgone play dates and such because of COVID, so she has missed out.

I should go now. I’m too distracted to play and write at the same time. I don’t want to do that to her. She deserves all of my attention, even if she is asking for a lot of it right now.

People say, and they’re right, I won’t get this time back. Not so long from now, she won’t want anything to do with me. And I’ll miss these days.

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