It was one of those days, yesterday. I felt invisible – you know – a day when nothing you do and nothing you say seems to matter to anyone? It’s like throwing a stone into a lake, ony there’s no ripple. . .Please assure me I’m not the only one who has those days.
Anyway, nothing I said made any kind of dent anywhere. The people you pay to listen to you? Blew off last night’s appointment. The person who wanted to pay *me* to listen? (I do occassionally read tarot for friends. This was one of those.) Blew off the appointment – though to be fair – it’s because his car quit on him in the middle of his morning commute and getting a reading while dealing with tow trucks probably wasn’t going to have worked out well. Regardless. The spouse was in a headspace that meant he might as well have been on another planet. And, I admit, by the end of the day, the pity party was in full swing and I was cranky.
That’s when this little girl crawled into my lap and purred up into my face. I existed again. She assured me that no matter what else had happened during the day, I mattered to her. In fact, I was vital to her. If only because that left ear desperately needed to be rubbed. Sure. I fuss about the cats walking on my keyboard. My editor has caught evidence of feline edits in my manuscripts. But you know, Hatshepsut just bought herself all kinds of leeway in the keyboard walking wars.