The cat is laying on the carpet. A wry slap of the tail every-so-often.
Her chin brushes itself on the plastic cat ball toy thing, whatever the fuck it is, that she never actually plays with, but likes to hit her face with.
She's so fuzzy.
I want to pet her, but I'm worried she'll get up and walk away.
There's a session tonight after Stringed Migration at Biddy's. It's gonna be late.
Hold on to your butts.