Is that too much to ask? Sometimes, I just want to be able to sit down and not have anyone bother me. I go into the bathroom. They follow me. I sit down and pick up my laptop. They ask, “What are you doing?” o.O What does it look like I’m doing? I pick up my iPhone to read my email. “What are you doing?” I just want to check my email. Is that crime?
After this constant barrage of questions, I get grumpy. The next question: “Are you tired?”
No, I’m not tired. I just want a moment’s peace. Can I get a moment’s peace? Do you need me 24/7? Can I eat my meal without you expecting me to entertain you by reading to you? Or talking to you? And if you I get to eat my meal without doing all of that, can I have a few moments to just be before the barrage of questions and demands starts again?
If I am alone, it’s the cats. Now that it’s cold, my lap, or my torso really as the laptop occupies the lap, my cats will climb up on my chest and across my arms. This isn’t as bad, until they start getting pissy because my arms moves a little when I type. Or they follow me around the house meowing at me. “I’m hungry,” they cry, except there’s food in their dish. I tell them that, but they say, “We don’t like that kind.” Um, too bad. It’s what you’ve go. Eat it.
All I’m asking for is five minutes. Okay. Maybe I want more than five minutes. Maybe I want an entire day, or a weekend, of just me. If I get it, I may not like it. But I’d sure be willing to try.