Today, I
mistook my cat’s snores for my mobile vibrating; I lead a lonely life.
(Just like the
woman in the Ace of Base song.)
I heard it just as
I’d finished running my show, and assumed it was my wife calling to say she
was on her way home. It turns out it wasn’t, unless she now communicates by channelling her thoughts through the sounds of sleeping felines, which
would be weird as well as difficult to orchestrate.
What gave the
game away was the fact my phone is almost always on silent, particularly when
I’m working. I like to assert control over when I have to deal with anything the real world throws at me, as it makes me feel less stressed; I’d recommend
this technique to anyone who suffers from anxiety, or is simply too busy, as it helps you to take your foot off the metaphorical gas (which I mean in the
American sense; not that I want to dwell on the goings-on in that country at the
moment).
Maybe my cat was trying to fuck with my head. Maybe she's the leonine equivalent to a myna
bird. I wouldn’t put it past her; it’s well-documented that all cats are
gits. Still, at least she feels rested.