![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
This week's homework was hopeless. We were supposed to be playing with the timeline, but I (admittedly along with everyone else in the class) forgot everything else we'd been taught, resulting in one of the class having a bit of a barney with the tutor. She said it wasn't any good him grumbling about her homework: if he'd asked her to do one thing and then she'd done that thing but not this other thing, how was she to know he'd also wanted this other thing.
Mine is more like a blog entry than a story. But here goes.
Untitled
I have learned to sleep with my cat by my side, firstly because she’s a warm weight purring next to my hip and secondly because any attempt to keep her out of the bedroom is doomed. She howls like a banshee until let in, then jumps on the bed as if she hasn’t been creating merry hell just outside the door. You live and learn, as my mother used to say. No cat, no sleep.
I call to Smokey to stop her from playing with the thing-on-a-string-on-a-stick which is her latest favourite toy. She leaves it alone only very reluctantly, dragging it into the bedroom to show me what she wants to play with. We went through a phase a few months ago when she played ‘fetch’ with bottle tops, and I had to lean out of bed to throw the bottle tops through the door by bouncing them off the bedroom wall and into the hall. She’d fetch the bottle top back to me – assuming she didn’t drop it halfway and forget about it. Equally, more than once I have woken up to discover a damp bottle top left in the bed, when Smokey brought it to me to play with, but I was asleep. She is a hard done by kitty.
I have no call to criticise the cat for playing, I spent all evening playing a computer game on my PlayStation 3. I once heard Judge Judy on TV say that there’s no way a 50 year old woman would have a PlayStation for herself. She clearly never met me, I’m on my third. Not that I’m any good; the whole time I was playing I had managed to back my characters into a village and couldn’t find the way out. When I found the way out, the creatures attacked and I died. Again.
You’d think I was obsessed with gaming; I swear I’m not. It’s just that I spent most of the day putting a Call of Cthulhu game I’m going to be running into some support software. It’s basically a data entry job, but not quite. It’s more than sufficient to keep me alert.
My first job every day is to sort out Smokey’s litter tray and then to feed her. She’s an indoor cat partly because I was told when I took her on that she was and partly because after the experiences some of my friends have had with indoor/outdoor cats being hit by cars, not least Judith’s darling Chester, I think I’d keep her in anyway. She has plenty of room to run about in the flat, and often runs randomly from room to room like a mad thing.
Comments welcome, as always.
Mine is more like a blog entry than a story. But here goes.
Untitled
I have learned to sleep with my cat by my side, firstly because she’s a warm weight purring next to my hip and secondly because any attempt to keep her out of the bedroom is doomed. She howls like a banshee until let in, then jumps on the bed as if she hasn’t been creating merry hell just outside the door. You live and learn, as my mother used to say. No cat, no sleep.
I call to Smokey to stop her from playing with the thing-on-a-string-on-a-stick which is her latest favourite toy. She leaves it alone only very reluctantly, dragging it into the bedroom to show me what she wants to play with. We went through a phase a few months ago when she played ‘fetch’ with bottle tops, and I had to lean out of bed to throw the bottle tops through the door by bouncing them off the bedroom wall and into the hall. She’d fetch the bottle top back to me – assuming she didn’t drop it halfway and forget about it. Equally, more than once I have woken up to discover a damp bottle top left in the bed, when Smokey brought it to me to play with, but I was asleep. She is a hard done by kitty.
I have no call to criticise the cat for playing, I spent all evening playing a computer game on my PlayStation 3. I once heard Judge Judy on TV say that there’s no way a 50 year old woman would have a PlayStation for herself. She clearly never met me, I’m on my third. Not that I’m any good; the whole time I was playing I had managed to back my characters into a village and couldn’t find the way out. When I found the way out, the creatures attacked and I died. Again.
You’d think I was obsessed with gaming; I swear I’m not. It’s just that I spent most of the day putting a Call of Cthulhu game I’m going to be running into some support software. It’s basically a data entry job, but not quite. It’s more than sufficient to keep me alert.
My first job every day is to sort out Smokey’s litter tray and then to feed her. She’s an indoor cat partly because I was told when I took her on that she was and partly because after the experiences some of my friends have had with indoor/outdoor cats being hit by cars, not least Judith’s darling Chester, I think I’d keep her in anyway. She has plenty of room to run about in the flat, and often runs randomly from room to room like a mad thing.
Comments welcome, as always.
Tags:
no subject
no subject
no subject
If you were actually writing a blog about Smokey and the bottle tops, that's not how you'd write it (I've read them).
To me, this piece seems artificial compared with when you're writing about Smokey for real.
I don't know what the tutor is after, but I prefer your own voice.
no subject
As it's a course, I'm supposed to be playing with styles and tone and things like that so some of the homework stuff will be experimental, and not all the experiments will work well.
no subject
Experiments are worth trying.