I write in my pyjamas on my sofa surrounded by my cats. It’s a bit isolating — Allison Schroeder
I can’t say I write in my pj’s on a sofa. Not my perch or outfit of choice. I’ll pretty much write anywhere but I don’t find sofas ideal no matter how much back support they may have.
I will write with the laptop sitting on my lap with my feet propped up on another chair. I will write sitting cross-legged on the floor.
I’m not surrounded by cats when I write simply because I don’t have any cats in my home. Except this week, I’m cat-sitting for a family friend. A one-and-a-half year old ginger/sand tabby named Hoody. The family has only had him for a month. They found him at the local humane society. Nobody is clear on his backstory. The folks at the humane society believe he was living on the streets.
But he is exceedingly friendly and playful. If he was living on the streets, he wasn’t there for any extended period of time. He loves attention but I always default to describing him as needy. I can also describe him as lacking a little chill. I blame that on his youth and whatever occurred in his life prior to finding his forever home.
As I write this blog, the ginger furball is napping beside the laptop on the kitchen table that doubles as my office, my writing HQ, my perch of choice. He’s found some space amongst the chaotically organized research material that inhabits the table.
I did have a cat before. I had to put him down 8-1/2 years ago. He was losing weight and it seemed his kidneys were starting to shut down. There was no other option, if you think about it. That was all before I started writing. So, I’ve never had the experience of writing while being surrounded by cats. That seems a little distracting to me, especially if they’re not particularly chill which is something I highly prize at this point. Walking all over the keyboard is hardly endearing, either. I certainly won’t miss that when his family comes to pick him up next Monday morning.
I suppose Hoody’s presence is a good way to figure out if I’m ready to make room for a furball or two of my own. Heading into Day Three… the answer is no. I’m thinking my caretaking tendencies were satiated when I had the cat and the horse. Is it horrible to be counting down the days until the furball goes home? I love animals. I love horses. I love cats and other furry and feathered creatures. But it takes time and responsibility to have one in your life. I worry he’s not being entertained enough. I worry I’ll come home to find something he’s destroyed. Child-proofing a home is one thing. Cat-proofing a home is a whole different ballgame.
Schroeder said it was a bit isolating being surrounded by her cats while she’s in her pj’s writing something. Writing can be isolating, but not in a negative way. You’re isolated with your thoughts and ideas, the very things you want to put onto paper. I like being isolated in that way. Let’s me get into the heads of my characters and talk or listen to them. I enjoy my alone time with them.
The isolation I need probably doesn’t go over very well with family members or acquaintances who don’t quite understand. I suppose the fear of me possibly being labelled a hermit or anti-social doesn’t sit well with family. The creative soul misunderstood.
Anyway, I move through life knowing that the creative soul can, and will be, misunderstood. It doesn’t bother me. I’m past the point of giving a shit about what a lot folks think I should or shouldn’t do. However, if anyone tries to coerce me into doing something I ultimately don’t want to do, I will rain Hell down on them. Just a warning.
Now, back to writing and trying to help a feline house guest gain some chill before I lose mine.