Every day is a good day for a cat. A cat's life consists of eating, napping and playing. Day in and day out. All day long. Every day a new adventure, exploring the house for new and interesting smells and new and interesting things to play with.
Case in point. Merlot (technically our oldest daughter's cat, of whom we have temporary custody) is currently sitting behind my laptop, rummaging through the large plastic stadium cup full of pens and pencils that sits on the left back corner of my desk. It's the same cup that's been there for months, with the same pens and pencils in it that he's played with before, and yet he's pawing at it as if it's some fascinating new thing.
He slinks down off the desk and saunters over to my recliner, on which our miniature beagle, Calliope, is napping, intent on causing whatever mayhem he can stir up by popping her on the snout with a splayed (clawless) paw. There's the dog's life. Pretty much same as the cat's, only the napping involves a snoring, deep-seated sleep which leaves the pup groggy for a minute or two upon wakening - whereas the cat by definition does not sleep so much as rest with its eyes closed, then awakens with a start to run off and chase whatever the new and interesting item of the moment may be (in this case, the dog).
Oh, to be a cat, and there would be no such thing as a bad day. Cats don't care if their bosses yell at them, or if they get stuck in traffic in the rain and miss their daughter's rugby game, or if they forget to order their son's new flannel bedsheets so that they'll be ready for him when he gets home for spring break.
Cats don't care if they write endlessly for days and end up cranking out nothing but blibbering drivel, a pile of superfluous crap which must subsequently be deleted and rewritten.
Balance. Fortunately, we humans have a slight advantage over cats and dogs - we possess the power of positive thinking. We can take our bad days in stride, knowing there are good days ahead. We can find and revel in the joy that is balance. Last Friday may have been a bad day for me, but the days that followed were good enough to make up for it.
On Saturday I braved the rain to go to JT's only Nashville signing for So Close the Hand of Death, the sixth book in her Taylor Jackson series - she (seated right) was joined by author Sophie Littlefield (seated left), an altogether delightful woman who writes three different series (I've added the first book of her crime fiction one to my tottering TBR pile). They were both charming and lovely and entertaining and a well-deserved, much-needed boost for my sagging spirits.Monday was also a good day. (Given that this is usually a contradiction in terms, I was pleasantly surprised.) Our oldest came home for the day and treated me and her brother to a lovely lunch at our favorite local Mexican restaurant, and I was able to rest and recoup from the week-long sinus infection I'd been battling.
Finally, Wednesday night was our bimonthly writers' group meeting, and though there were only three of us there, it was a very productive and beneficial session. With the others' input, I am revitalized, inspired and motivated once more to work on the heretofore referenced pile of superfluous crap I've been writing.
I have a feeling today's gonna be another good day.
