As I type, my 65 pound calico cat is purring in my lap. Okay, she's not 65lbs but she's fat. Very fat. And when you put all that fat on two tiny points of balance that are her front feet, well... she's fat.
The house is quiet. Every so often the dog will whimper or growl in his sleep. He's chasing something but I don't know what it is. The kitten (who isn't an kitten any more but is called that by virtue of being the youngest pet) alternates between sleeping on the couch with the dog and tearing around the house saving us from an evil only she can see. The kids are at school, and I'm starting to watch the clock to make sure I get them in time. Content. Relaxed.
I've edited today, which is sometimes great and sometimes terrible. With the story I was editing, I would get so wrapped up in the characters that I forget to read actively. I've had to 're-edit' several parts! I have another voice whispering at me, an interesting idea that I'd like to investigate. And I'm anxiously waiting to get Game Plan back on my desk to give it another go. There's no better place to be!
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