![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceThe poet'n'novelist D M Thomas once translated a poem (the original author of which I have forgot, to my shame; I have it somewhere) that began "Just and righteous God, I wish to protest."
It's a phrase that sticks with me, and bubbles up in variations when I'm particularly outraged. Or indeed particularly stubborn.
Hence, right now: Just and righteous cat, I wish to refuse.
Both boys are inclined to sit between keyboard and screen, on the assumption that they are much more interesting to look at than whatever silly thing it is I'm doing else. I cannot argue with this, and mostly I twist and stretch to peer around them, rather than shift their fat and furry carcases.
But I will not, I will not sit here and endure it while Mac washes his bottom right there, inches from my nose, while I'm trying to work.
*evicts cat*
It's a phrase that sticks with me, and bubbles up in variations when I'm particularly outraged. Or indeed particularly stubborn.
Hence, right now: Just and righteous cat, I wish to refuse.
Both boys are inclined to sit between keyboard and screen, on the assumption that they are much more interesting to look at than whatever silly thing it is I'm doing else. I cannot argue with this, and mostly I twist and stretch to peer around them, rather than shift their fat and furry carcases.
But I will not, I will not sit here and endure it while Mac washes his bottom right there, inches from my nose, while I'm trying to work.
*evicts cat*