Back in high school I had a few friends who were always convincing me to put off doing my homework. “Just do it in the morning,” they’d say. “Do it during mass,” they’d say.
I’m a procrastinator at heart, so it never took too much convincing for me to abandon my books in favor of smoking cigarettes in the parking lot.
Since then I’ve given up Catholicism, the flute, kilts and knee socks, and even smoking. I’m a completely different person than I was as a teenager — but I still procrastinate. Only now, it’s my precious cats who purr in my ear, convincing me to leave my responsibilities for the morning.
Ghost Cat and Specter just don’t understand. I am a grown up. I have housework to do. I have work work to do. My husband says I have poor time management skills. I say I have cats who keep me from completing my daily tasks through a combination of prevention and temptation.
Here are six ways these cats contribute to my procrastination:
I have basically given up on laundry at this point in my life, handing over most of the clothes washing duties to my husband, who is much better at doing adult things then I am. All that he asks is that I put away the clean laundry — but how can I when Specter is so often found sitting in the basket?
One of Specter’s favorite things to do is find whatever it is that I need in that moment, and make it her comfy little spot. Whether it’s a bill I need to pay or an application I need to fill out, if I am looking for it Specter is probably already on it.
Both my cats have some obsession with my computer. They love hanging when I’m just browsing and even more when I write. They think they are my muses — and they can be, when they are comfortably laying on my shoulders or purring on my lap. My word count suffers when they get onto the table. They whine, they cry, they rush the keyboard. I spend half of every writing session pushing them away from my Chromebook. When they are in an interrupting kind of mood I might as well just settle in for some Netflix binging, because writing is off the table for as long as they are on it.
Ghost Cat is just so great at napping. She seriously makes it look amazing. It’s impossible to see her sleeping and not want to just curl up beside her and head into dreamland yourself. Seeing Ghost Cat asleep is like my anti-coffee — as soon as I see her fluffy little body rising and falling in slow sleep breaths I want nothing more than to join her in bed. And once I’m in there with her, good luck getting me up. I simply can’t bring myself to shift Ghosty off the blankets while she’s still sleeping. Nap time only ends when Ghost Cat says so.
Both my cats are so beautiful, I guess it’s only natural that I feel compelled to document and share their good looks over social media. But sometimes I just need to get stuff done — and it would be great if the cats could stop being so darn cute for a little while. How am I supposed to be productive when these two are so perfectly Instagramable? It may only take a few seconds to snap and post a cute cat pic, but when every minute of every day is a Kodak moment, the time adds up quickly.
Like so many cat lovers, I will do just about anything to keep my girls comfy — and if that means not moving for two hours because Ghosty is resting her chin on my knee, then so be it. I will stay on the couch with her long after whatever TV show I was watching has ended and long after my bladder has filled to capacity. I will push myself to the absolute limits and defer getting up until the last second possible if it means I can eek out just a little more Ghost Cat cuddle time.
It’s obvious that grown-up me is just as addicted to my cats as teenage me was to those cigarettes. When it comes to my girls, my other responsibilities can wait. The house is just going to need to be vaccumed again tomorrow and the dishes can soak. When Ghost Cat and Specter want my attention, they are all I can possibly pay attention to. But my husband may have a solid point about my time management skills.
What about your cats? How do they keep you from your to-do list?
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About the author: Heather Marcoux is a freelance writer in Alberta, Canada. Her beloved Ghost Cat was once her only animal, but Specter the kitten and GhostBuster the dog make her fur family complete. Heather is also a wife, a bad cook and a former TV journalist. Some of her friends have hidden her feed because of an excess of cat pictures. If you don’t mind cat pictures, you can follow her on Twitter; she also posts pet GIFs on Google +.