Wednesday, 8 February 2012

Pirating pussy procrastination

The shop next door, which is a carpet shop or a tile shop or at least almost definitely something to do with floors, keeps giving away squares of carpet. Sort of doormat size. I nabbed one a few months ago on the basis that anything that's free is exciting. I have a vast pile of free crap that I have taken from conferences, shows, meetings, events, shops, chuggers and small children and I really should know better as I now have to wade through all of the crap and try and sort it out before moving house. Being unable to throw things away from some kind of middle class western guilt complex makes this difficult and also means many of my friends are likely to be the lucky recipients of all manner of interesting oddments during the next few weeks.

The carpet square ended up on my kitchen floor. Fatty took a great liking to it and spends hours at a time squishing his gargantuan body and stumpy limbs onto the mat. He crouches there with all the concentration of an autistic sphinx and looking for all the world like a cat loaf.

Today I grabbed another free square of carpet (where do they come from? why are they free?) and put it on the kitchen floor. Now he flumps between the two. And I realised what he's doing. He's playing pirates. So I got on one of the squares and we fought for ownership of the litter tray. He won, naturally, on account of the fact that he has had loads more practise than me.

These are the sorts of things I do in between writing, drinking coffee and trying not to eat.

I need a boyfriend.

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