Sometimes I’m the crazy cat lady. More often than I’d like to admit, really. I talk to the cat as though he understands me. I explain what’s going on with clients and complain about my computer frustrations. I try to convince him that stepping on the keyboard is not, in fact, a good idea.
I can’t help it – working from home gets a little lonely. I have few complaints about working in my house (the commute is stellar, as is the dress code), but some days I miss having office mates to chat with. So instead, I talk to the kitty. He’s like my little fuzzy coworker. Well, I suppose it’s more like talk at the kitty. He rarely responds. And if he could, he’d probably agree that I’m totally nuts.