The New Job

Before I got this new job my former job was music directing musical theater and I loved it. Of course, all things "theater" came to a screeching halt in March 2020. So I sat at home, trying to keep myself occupied. I played music quite a bit. I painted. I danced with my dog outside using a ball or a frisbee to train him to spin and come forward and backup. I made videos. I read the Bible and gardened, and cleaned out the attic, and scrubbed the kitchen cabinets, and tackled the office. I dejunked and decluttered. I spoke my truth on social media, and participated in zoom calls. But most of the time, I sat.... And I sat... And I waited... and sat some more. I mean, I walked the dogs about 8 times a day, but there was also a lot of sitting. I was bored.

Almost a year later, a job opportunity arose and I just couldn't sit any longer, so I called up for an interview and they hired me. It's an office job. It's pretty much a LOT of sitting and its also a bit boring. But I'm getting paid!!! I have a co-worker who has quickly gotten into my heart. He and I along with the owner are all crammed into a shack, each at our own station with a computer, tall office chair, a stapler, credit card machine, tape, scissors, a copy machine and a phone. 

There's an office barn cat. FLUFFY! The owner is "her person."

She's fifteen and to be honest, Her Person has a very odd and quirky relationship with her. He's constantly informing us of what Fluffy says and what she wants, and how she needs to be held and petted (although she only likes him). Everyone in the office addresses their comments and sighs directly to Fluffy... "oh Fluffy." She's commonly used for personal distressing. 

Fluffy has a basket on a shelf by the window. It's fully equipped with her person's neck warmer--for the scent-- as well as a dish towel that probably hasn't been washed for two years and a heating pad for extra warmth (mainly because Her Person keeps the office a frikkin 65 degrees!!). Her meow-er is broken. It sounds more like a croaking frog or a 100 year old lady or something. When she tries to use it we just see her mouth move, but nothing comes out. When sound does come out, I can tell you, she's definitely screaming profanities at the world. 

Her Person sounds like a broken record every morning, "Fluffy, go to Karen, she neeeeds you to help her find something to do!" He then proceeds to explain to me for the hundredth time the proper way to hold her (so that she can't get away) and to force her to receive all the incessant petting. "She likes it behind the ears,"' he's demonstrating, "and really dig your nails in, because she loves that!"

"That's OK." I respond with a smirk. "She seems perfectly content with you." I swear, he says this solely because he feels a sense of satisfaction that Fluffy only really wants him and no one else.  I told him I was completely fine with that. I have two dogs at home who adore me.

He also tends to do a LOT of teasing and poking and lifting her up to the ceiling, all for the fun watching her panic, and she just comes right back to him, demanding to be scratched and rubbed some more and fed treats. And before long she's screaming her demand to be let down to the floor, and out the door she goes to sleep a sunny spot. Her Person, throughout the day, snatches her from her sleeping spot and brings her back in to keep him company. I don't think she appreciates is all that much. 

Oh Fluffy... I really don't care whether you like me or not, cuz I know that when no one else is in the office, you let me hold you and you purr quite loudly. And I understand the difference of when you're screaming to be fed or when you actually just want to go outside to sleep, NOT to be poked or disturbed every 5 minutes. I gotchu, cat. I gotchu.