Describe your most ideal day from begining to end.
Well, WordPress…
First, I’d spell “beginning” correctly.
Aside from that, I’d get 10 hours of sleep without a herd of cats performing a Cossack Cavalry Dance on my head at 4 am because they can see the bottom of their food dish.
Next, I would wake up to a full pot of coffee that I remembered to program the night before, and no one would call, text, or attempt to talk to me in any way, shape, or form until I’d had at least two cups. I wouldn’t have to hear for the 437th time this month how much my co-worker/editor hates their girlfriend and her mother, or their brilliant plan to fudge the numbers on the magazine that we write for, so that the tourism board writing the checks never figures out that people only come to this place to find out if you can literally die from boredom, and no one is reading anything that we write. Seriously. This place should take inspiration from The Never Ending Story and rename itself the Prairie of Sadness.
Third, my kitchen would magically clean itself and my laundry would fold itself and float from Mount Washmore to its home in the dresser. I don’t mind vacuuming, but I’d rather put out a lit cigar on my butt than do dishes or fold a pile of clothes. This is why I only own four plates, half a dozen or so coffee cups (whose population decreases by about one a month thanks to one of the cats who has a bizarre coffee addiction), and enough clothes to fill one laundry basket.
At the end of the day, I’d have an article attempting to lure people to this wasteland completed and I’d get paid for writing it for the first time in about three months. Then the cats and I would share a ribeye steak and a bowl of ice cream while watching Peaky Blinders for the 17th time, and then call it a day, where I would read a book in bed without having to get up to clean up cat barf three times or break up the nightly ritual of the 18 lb cat dragging the 8 lb cat around the house like a rag doll (the little one starts the fight within seconds of the lights going out every single time, the big one eventually gets tired of being jumped on and gummed in the face by an idiot with three teeth in her head, and holds her off the floor by the back of her head until I make him let her go).
That pretty much sums it up. Sleep, coffee, cats, no people, food, and books.
Cat Hoskins 