The Murphenator

Murphy Lee. Mighty Murfin Power Ranger. Murphenstein. Murphenheim. Murfinturkle. MiniMurf. Screech. Squeak. Boy Child. What is your damage, Murphy? Murphenfoofoo.

I love my new ginger boy. We are all still adjusting, but that's to be expected. I think it takes a feline at least 3 months to get mostly comfy.

Not only did I adopt the Murph. He adopted me. This is uber prevalent and germane to today's post.

I try and write from whenever I crawl out of bed until at least 2 or 3. One of us (gives Murphy the stank eye) does not care for this arrangement. Simba, his older brother, used to lie on the day bed in the Sanctuary and rest his eyes. He was completely satisfied knowing I was in the same room.

NOT the Murph. He wants to be in the same skin. 

I do not jest.

We share the same pillow at night, and he must be touching me in some way. He naps in between my legs when I'm in my rocker recliner. 

And the booger head is incredibly vocal. Thus the "What is your damage, Murphy" nickname. Still learning his vocabulary at this point. 

I'm currently at my desk with Murphy approximately 6 inches behind my chair wheel lounging like one of those French girls. I don't mind the proximity. I DO mind writing while he voices his displeasure. When he stands on his back feet and put his paws on my desk top, only to look at me with keen annoyance. When he tries to JUMP on said desk where there is literally no room except for my trauma.

Sir. SIR!

Mr. Man was being incredibly obnoxious yesterday, and I decided to quit writing a bit after 2. I grab an ice water, my phone, and settle into my rocker recliner.

The little shit is NOWHERE to be found.

😒

I beg your finest pardon. I quit, and he splits?

😑

I've told myself I'm not quitting early today. 🫡

My little goober can go amuse himself for a bit longer.

Will Crystal lose her mind and give up the ghost? Will Murphy succeed in his most-irritating ploys for attention?

Find out tomorrow on This is my fucking life.

(picture as proof)