Today was a slow day. Rather dull. The only way I can properly explain the dullness of today is to recount how I spent half an hour of my time. Half an hour is all I need.
I was sitting in the living room attempting to read Lady Chatterley's Lover. My cat was sitting on the floor next to my chair. The house was completely silent. So when I heard Meeko chattering, I don't know what else to call his series of short meows, I had to wonder what he was looking at. Sometimes he does it for no obvious reason and it's creepy, but I like knowing what's around me if possible. I glance around the room and I hear it before I see it. There's a fly in the house.
I watch it buzzing around for five minutes, get good and dizzy and watch as Meeko takes a few swipes at it when it stupidly flies low enough. The cat got bored before I did. When it stopped buzzing about and Meeko went to eat, I returned to my book. But the buzzing started again shortly. I was having enough trouble focusing without the stupid fly so I got up, in true classic form, rolled up a few flyers and started swatting about like a lunatic. To make matter more interesting, Meeko stood in the doorway supervising.
I'd like to say I conquered that first time. But I didn't. The fly eluded me. I returned to my chair, returned to my book and was entirely ready to let the whole incident slide. I'm gracious like that. The damn fly just couldn't keep quiet. I was on my feet again! I flailed around in the living room. The fly escaped. I tracked it to the dining room. The ceiling fan knocked it back a few times but it refused to die. Finally, it landed on a dining room chair. Meeko was in the stairs watching as I stalk toward my prey as quietly as possible.
And yes, in between hunting sessions, I scolded Meeko for forcing me to do his job.
Thankfully, I have very long arms. I swatted the fly and nailed it. Actually, I kind of smeared it across the back of the chair. Oops. Whatever, it's a wooden chair and I cleaned it. I flicked the carcass onto the floor, kind of expecting my cat to eat it. He usually does. Instead, he made a wide arc around it, meowed once and jumped up two of the nearby stairs. He turned and watched as I shook my head and disposed of the body.
That's how I used half an hour of my day. And believe it or not, that's the most eventful thing that happened. I need a job. Or for my friends to be in town. Or a girlfriend. Any of the three will do. A combo would be asking too much. Because I am not willing to put forth the effort it would take to make fly hunting an official sport. If it's not already.