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.