The Right Attitude

For the past week I have been awakened at 4 ayem by the sounds of a Catathalon taking place downstairs.  The two cats are young, and full of spit and vinegar.  Perhaps, because they sleep all day, they are most active at night.  Or the other way around.  Regardless, they are having a great time.  Events include wrastllin', obstacle course, races, high jump, slithering, ball-chasing and stair leaping.  Oh, I almost forgot the all-important box-thumping.  But, best of all, it's done in the dark.

We humans call this awakening in the middle of the night by other names.  My husband's favorite expression is "The Syndromes."  We all have the Syndromes -- those niggling little worries that creep up on us when we least expect them.  We rewrite dialog ("I should have said . . ."), worry about paying bills, meeting deadlines, where is (person, thing), and anything else that comes down the pike.  As artists we worry about color, line, 'what's that supposed to say?", the next show, framing, "But does he/she LIKE it?", and how do I . . . .

Cats have the right attitude.  when they feel the need, they get up and DO something.  A Catathalon.  Eating.  Litter box.  Turn over.  Cuddle.   Watch the critters at the bird feeders at night.

We, on the other hand, simply lie there, consumed by . . . whatever.  And by the instructions given us as children, "Stay in bed until it's time to get up."  So, we stay in bed because we have been programmed to.  Would it not be better to do something more constructive?  Clean out closets and drawers?  Sketch?  Write?  Read?  Do something active that requires us to think about what we're doning?  One thing is for certain -- we'll be just as tired in the morning from lying in bed and fretting as we would if we got up and did something.

I, for one, have very well-organized closets and drawers.  It's all a matter of Cattitude.