Poor dear. She had to contend with playing on her own for most of the day as I had too many rewrites to do. That's what happens when you take on a writing job: the writing ceases to be your own. Well, in this case anyway. It sort of sprouted a really ugly pair of wings and threatened to drag me off the cliff.
So my poor little angel/rascal/monster had no choice but to keep herself amused. She did pretty good actually. She harassed the cat, pushed all the dining chairs, save for the one my butt was plonked on, to all four corners of the walls, watched TV, and came over to bit me on the knees and thighs when she needed attention.
It got to the point where she would look distressed and cry for me the moment she saw me sit down at my laptop at the dining table. Sigh...
Only a few more days of this and hopefully after, I'll be free to cater to her every whim.
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