Playtime with cats

Yesterday I worked from home at my sister's Geneva apartment.

I wasn't alone. Her cats, Jipsy and Edyta, kept me company. By which I mean Edyta (the composed Siamese-Birman) spent most of the day sleeping on the bed, and Jipsy (the reptilian Abyssinian) spent most of the day indicating that rather than working, I should instead be devoting my life to her every whim.

She clawed at my feet. She mewled pitifully. She brought me a feathery toy and implored me to play with her. She hid behind the door and made hunting noises that sounded like the velociraptors in Jurassic Park. She waited until I was on a conference call to treat my body like an inflatable jungle gym begging to be punctured. She sat on the keyboard, moving off only whenever I tried to take a picture and actually wanted her to stay put.

It wasn't my most productive day, sure. But it kind of made me want a cat. Sure beats a cubicle.


 Oh, did you need these papers?

Oh, did you need these papers?