Thursday, July 24, 2008 Delen: The cat is in By Annie Delen Jaded Mind
FRIENDS have been asking why I seem to have fallen off the edge of the "writing world" all of a sudden. Good question. Now, if I knew the answer to that then I would not have fallen off in the first place.
Oh well, I could always come up with the usual alibis writers deftly come up with whenever the subject comes up. Writer's Block is of course the most common. As common as "the dog ate my homework" reason Or, I could be more creative and say I got kidnapped and threatened that if I write another word I would not only be obliterated but made to disappear in a very excruciatingly painful way. Then again, I just read that from one of the Stephen King Fictions that pass off for my light reading these days.
Truth is - and a painful one to admit - I woke up one day facing a blank wall or in this case, literally a blank ceiling. There were no ideas begging to be developed into a¼ page sarcastic nonsense. The daily observations that used to serve as fodder for this trying hard hack no longer were interesting. Living became a routine that has to be gone through without either complaint or compliment. A boiled sweet potato sitting by its lonesome in someone's kitchen couldn't have been more enthusiastic about life.
So what'd I do? Adopted a "pusakal" (Pusang Kalye) that's what. Raised eyebrows? Yeah, I am still a long way from becoming a retiree in need of the company of pets but hey, whatever helps. Besides, I've read somewhere that having a pet or pets can be helpful in arresting what's the disease? Wait - oh yes, Alzheimer's disease. As to the "how" of it, I still need to recheck the article if I can even find it that is. One thing is certain however and that is after the cat in question darkened my door, my life as I knew it was flushed down the bathroom drain.
Oh sure, I've had pets in the past but this one is beyond my wildest imagination. Several people have already attested to the intelligence of this species but my cat must have been a direct descendant of Lionel Luthor in another life. Not only has it destroyed my schedule with a flick of a very pink paw but it has also recreated it to its own advantage with a well placed nip from its razor sharp teeth. Gone are my late morning forays into dreamland because I have to get up early to feed the feline. No longer can I curl up in bed with my favorite novelist because its "felines" has to take catnaps on my stomach. And most of all, I have to revert to playing catch if I hope to live the day. In short, I better get off my lazy a—!
Indeed, I have fallen off the "writing world" and that is the truth. The past months have been spent checking essays instead of writing them. I have to say it felt weird critiquing other people's articles when I myself was on a self imposed vacation from writing. Every time former students and acquaintances introduce me as a writer, I inwardly cringe while silently praying that God in all his infinite understanding would not strike me with lightning for being a fraud. So far, I am still alive. Rest assured this article was not published posthumous.
Where does its "felines" fit is of course the expected question. That is exactly what I have been trying to say. This article is written in gratitude of the selfish, self centered, conceited (need I go on?) animal we all know as the CAT.
I apologize for such a mundane topic when the world is about to go hungry considering the skyrocketing prices of basic commodities and the city is about to be buried in its own garbage. I leave that to others who are a lot better at raving and ranting on paper. Not that I don't have my days but hey, give me a break, I just got back on board thanks to a fur ball who just wouldn't quit jumping on the keyboard.
