My Cat is Judging Me, and Honestly? She’s Not Wrong.

There’s a common misconception that I am the one in charge in my household. That I sit down to write books because I’m a passionate author with a love for storytelling. That I write because I believe in the power of words.

All lies.

The truth? I am merely a humble employee, working tirelessly to fund my cat’s pension plan.

Meet My Feline Overlord

Like most cats, mine has perfected the art of passive-aggressive judgment. She watches me constantly, with that unimpressed, slightly disappointed expression that says:

"You call yourself a writer? Pathetic."

It doesn’t matter what I’m doing—writing, editing, procrastinating on social media—she sits there, silently critiquing my every move. And if I dare to take a break? If I even think about doing something other than working to maintain her lavish lifestyle?

Cue the dramatic sigh (which is ironic, considering I apparently make my characters do that too much).

The Writing Process, According to My Cat

  1. Opening my laptop: Ah, good. The human is finally earning my kibble.
  2. Checking emails instead of writing: Wasting time? Disappointing, but expected.
  3. Actually writing: Fine, but make it profitable.
  4. Staring into space, plotting: You’re not fooling anyone. Type faster.
  5. Getting distracted by literally anything: Ugh. Amateur.
  6. Daring to stop for a snack: Is it for me? No? Then get back to work.

Her Expectations vs. My Reality

My cat expects a life of luxury—regular feeding, a warm spot by the fireplace, and a human who exists purely to make sure there’s always enough wood to keep her cozy.

Meanwhile, I’m over here just trying to make words behave long enough to publish another book, all while avoiding burnout and reminding myself that yes, I did actually choose this life.

She does not care.

At the End of the Day...

The truth is, I keep writing because I love it. But let’s be real—I also keep writing because someone in this house has to keep a roof over Her Highness’ head.

So, if you ever wonder why I push through writer’s block, why I market my books with the energy of someone running a full-time PR campaign, and why I refuse to quit despite the chaos of self-publishing…

Just know that somewhere, my cat is watching. Judging. Waiting for her next meal.

And I am terrified of disappointing her.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a book to write. And a very smug feline to impress.

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