Rainy days are the worst, unless you have the freedom to curl up with a good book and wait for the world to dry out.

As for me, I am at home allegedly working. My work phone rings and I watch it buzz and vibrate like a trapped cicada. It is my prisoner and I don’t choose to be a kind guard today.

Dripping, grey skies bring out the bad employee in me. It brings out the whining, resistant to change, let’s-push-everything-out-until-Monday, really bad employee. Normally, I am at least half way compliant, sort of positive, and willing to tolerate company shenanigans. 

Another call comes in, this time from the couch as I sit in this impossibly hard-backed chair.

“Come, have a lay down. Your book is welcome, too.”

I try to find another reason to resist.

I am almost done with Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley. A day like this would be perfect to find out what happens in Texas, his last stop. It is likely more of nothing, just another case of the mullygrubs. Still, I need to know.

Plus, my priorities are set around escaping reality, especially when Monday through Friday, so this would play right into my main objective.

Before committing to anything, I ask, “What about the cats?”

“Don’t be silly. They’re already here, waiting for you.”

As if on cue, the little one looks over the arm of the couch and gives me a sleepy mew. I see she has been warming up my favorite spot. The other two are curled up, deep in their normal 20 daily hours of beauty sleep.

My will power is weakening and I am walking towards the big, tan beast that beckons from the next room.

Just a quick nap, I bargain with myself and promise to work twice as hard in twenty minutes. Closing my eyes, I briefly consider that rainy days might not be the worst, after all.


One thought on “Mullygrubs 

  1. Hey Bones,
    Or you could be like me and have a new compulsion: hunting wooden cats. Seriously. Not long ago when I was hanging out with some very nice hoarder friends, I found a black walnut up right chubby cat. Her name is Lexus. Today, I found another cat, same size but carved in the pounce position. Her name is Camry, like the car. I’ve got a theme going on here. There really isn’t a point in why I am telling you this except we both like cats. Mine require less effort, although as a joke I do ask my neighbor who has a cat, whenever I get a text from him, it reads “neighbor with a cat,” to feed Lexus. Lexus has a small yellow cup of milk in front of her, and I forgot to tell you, she sits in the corner of my front window just like a real cat. Camry will sit in another window, and instead of a yellow saucer placed at her paws, mice will be laid out. I have a few faux mice hanging around.
    I hope you had a good long nap, and when you finally wake up, just remember the work will still be there, plus more.


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