Some work-from-home days are more amusing than others.
My home office is a goddamned disgrace right now, completely cluttered and messy and disorganized, and naturally my solution is to simply ignore the problem and work somewhere else, like at the kitchen counter. I'm sharing my workspace with a few stray Bioncles and breakfast crumbs, but overall it's a much more soothing environment.
Of course, working in the kitchen means my brain is only a few feet from the refrigerator and it KNOWS it, so I didn't make it very long before the snack cravings took over. I decided to have a slice of BBQ chicken lunch meat, because lean protein and portion control and the five pounds my ass managed to gain in Vermont.
Then I went to the bathroom. (Okay wow sorry I thought this story would be funny but my god it's taking forever and is full of boring build-up details like and then I went to the bathroom.)
When I came back, Max was on the kitchen counter, chowing down on the lunch meat.
He looked at me and went calmly back to eating. About a minute later he batted the empty bag onto the floor. And then he continued to just sit there on the counter, giving zero fucks.
People, this cat is almost 17 years old. He has 1) never eaten people food, 2) never even expressed an interest in people food, and 3) always known perfectly well he's not allowed on the damn kitchen counter.
We stared at each other for a little while, because honestly I was mostly just super impressed with his sudden chutzpah, and the fact that after all these years he was still managing to surprise me. Counter-height jumping! Thievery! Trespassing! Lunch meat!
He's like the senior citizen I hope to someday be: Careening around the Whole Foods on a scooter, big ol' box of wine in the front basket, casually stealing food from the buffet with a ladle I brought from home. Come at me, bros, I'm old.
Finally Max jumped down, and spent the next 15 minutes pushing the lunch meat bag around the floor, trying to lick the scraps from the inside.
And then Ceiba walked in and proceeded to chase Max around while attempting to lick the lunch meat smell off his face, which cracked me up too hard to hold my phone steady for a picture.
I wonder if this is the sort of thing I miss on a regular basis when I work in my actual office, and I also wonder if maaaaayyyyyybe it's time to leave the house and get a real, regular office job. Although I bet human coworkers would also steal my lunch meat, and it wouldn't be nearly as funny.
(Just chilling on my lap right now, and not even a little bit sorry.)