And let's not forget cats. It's equally uplifting to be in their company. They may be small, but they're great in their own way. Beignet is undeniably one of the greats, but he isn't small. Just thought I'd clarify.
"Well, Poopsie," I said, "how about it?"
Source: Mango Science
Earlier that morning, during the corralling of cats, I'd briefed Ms. Wonder on the latest developments regarding my book. You remember the book, don't you? It's a guide for coping with the less pleasing emotions--anxiety, depression--those nagging questions about why we even bother? I mean, what's the point of it all.
I can't wait for the book to be published because I know it will change lives. Maybe even mine. But as much as I look forward to its release, the stark truth remains--it must be written first. And there, as the man said, is the rub.
I'll bet it was Shakespeare who said it first. He had a knack for snappy, memorable phrases. The Marketing Department would've loved him.
But back to the book. My agent phoned over the holidays to remind me it's over a year since we first spoke of the book. He expected a draft by now and he's--how shall I say--pressing me to get on with it.
Of course, it’s easy for him to say. He doesn’t have to write the thing. Not so simple for me. I feel like the toad must have felt beneath that harrow. If it was a toad. What is a harrow anyway?
“Thought of anything?” I asked Ms. Wonder.
She didn’t answer immediately, and the silence gripped me with the icy hand of dread. When pressing a trusted advisor for counsel, the last thing one wants is still air. I stifled a hollow groan.
Have you ever surprised a mother bear frolicking with her cub in a meadow and then realized that you've left the bear repellent in the glove box in the car? Me neither, but I can imagine the result.
Ms. Wonder’s hesitation was making me feel that way now. Whatever she was about to say, I felt certain it would hit the Genome right between the eyes.
I continued to get dressed for the day, but my heart wasn't in it. I socked my feet with trembling hands, reminding myself that I was enough for anything coming my way. The thought helped a little, but it didn't completely erase the feeling that the spinal cord had been left in the fridge past the expiration date.
"It may be," I said, hoping to bolster up the spirit, "that you don't have the whole of the situation clear in your mind. Let me itemize the facts."
"The shirt," she said, and I felt a flicker of relief. "The button-line should be straight from neck to waist."
"But I have ankylosing spondy...."
"There," she said tugging the front of my shirt into submission. "Perfect"
"Thank you, Poopsie."
"Not at all."
"There are times when I wonder if gig lines matter," I said.
"The mood will pass," she said.
"I don't know why it should," I said. "Without a solution to this problem, my life will be meaningless. Unless something miraculous pops up in my morning meditation, I'm doomed. Solutions do sometimes pop up, don't they? Out of the blue?"
"Archimedes is said to have discovered the principle of displacement suddenly during his bath," she said as though remembering an amusing anecdote.
"Was that a big deal?"
"It's generally considered significant. His death at the hand of a common soldier was considered to be a great loss to Greek natural philosophy."
"Aren't you confusing Archimedes with the tai chi master who developed the Five Animal Frolics?"
"Hua Tou was killed by a mistrustful army general, I believe," she said.
"Still," I said, "what's it got to do with my situation?"
"Well," she said, "it couldn't have been a pleasant experience for either of them."
She had a point, of course, and I mulled over her words sensing a lesson. There seemed to be a hidden lesson in them.
"We do what we must do," she said, "and the best course of action is often the next step in front of us."
"Is that what great men do?"
"Great and small," she said.
"Alright," I said. "Today I'll organize the chapters I have, and then first thing tomorrow, I'll jump into the fray."
I'm not sure what Napoleon would have thought of the plan, but sometimes we must soldier on without the benefit of a great general. As I looked around me, I noticed the room was devoid of generals. I sighed deeply and resigned myself to taking the next step--finishing the book.
Footnote: Several readers have commented that being in the company of Timberwolves can be just as motivating as other greats, like men, women, and cats. I'm not up-to-date on Timberwolves, so I'm not recommending it, but I thought it worth mentioning.