I made a bold decision the other night.
Dangerous, really.
I decided I was going to leave my office, take my laptop to bed, and finish a few little things from there. Nothing major. Just a couple of tasks I wanted to get done without sitting at my desk like a Victorian clerk trapped in a candlelit accounting nightmare.
It was later in the evening. I was tired. My office chair had officially lost its charm. My brain had started whispering things like, You can totally work from bed. It’ll be cozy. You’ll be productive. You’ll be one of those people who peacefully answers emails with a blanket over their legs.
Lies.
But I believed them.
So I set everything up. Laptop on the bed. Pillows arranged. Blanket perfect. I had created a tiny, comfortable productivity nest.
Then I made one mistake.
I went to get a snack.
Now, in my defense, snacks are an essential part of evening productivity. You cannot expect a person to answer emails or make responsible decisions without something crunchy nearby. That’s just science.
So I left the room for maybe two minutes.
Maybe three.
When I came back, Halo was asleep on my computer.
Not beside it.
Not near it.
On it.
Her entire furry little body was draped across the keyboard like she had paid for the laptop herself and was now making an executive decision.
Apparently, my workday was over.
I stood there with my snack in my hand, staring at her.
She did not move.
She did not acknowledge me.
She did not care that I had plans, goals, or a very professional list of things I had intended to accomplish.
Nope.
Halo had clocked me out.
And honestly? There is no arguing with a cat sleeping on a laptop. You can try, but we all know how that ends. You gently nudge them, they look at you like you’ve betrayed every sacred law of the universe, and suddenly you’re the villain.
So I did what any reasonable person would do.
I accepted defeat.
The computer belonged to Halo now. The evening belonged to snacks and whatever I could do from my phone without disturbing Her Majesty.
Was I done for the night?
Apparently, yes.
Did I choose that?
Absolutely not.
But when your cat closes the office, she closes the office.
And honestly, maybe she was right.
All the best,
Tia
