I’m sitting in the bathroom, because it’s where I write of a morning (the glamorous life of a writer). It’s the only place where I know I’m far away enough from our bedroom so I won’t wake Tiger with the light or my typing. I have a mug of chai at my side, and a cheese and relish sandwich, and I can’t concentrate at all on what I’m meant to be doing.
Because there is a Daddy Long Legs watching me.
And I can’t stand Daddy Long Legses. I know, I know, I KNOW that they can’t hurt me. I know something-or-other-not-poisonous-or-short-fangs-or-something but they are CREEPY and this one is camped out across the room just staring at me and it’s giving me the willies.
Therefore, to distract myself, I am Googling cute animals.
Here is a baby elephant:
The Daddy Long Legs is still watching me. I’m going to do housework. Maybe that was its aim all along.