Day 2

I was distracted by my roommates cat.
More accurately, I was distracted by its not distracting me. Its absence was unusual and my ability to write was unhampered by my non-rent paying little friend and so I was struck by my sudden cat free existence.
To be clear: it's not that he refuses to pay rent, it is simply that cats are not expected to pay for anything, as they are not in the habit of having money.
Being free from his distraction was a rare opportunity for me. Without him, the trappings of procrastination were less likely and my dedication to discipline could finally be nurtured.
Still. My suspicion mounted.
I walked to the other side of my room in search. Checking under the uncomfortable set piece that is my futon no sign could be found, save the excess cat hair silently hoping to attain sentience.
I then descended down the steep steps, which abridge my high perch from the rest of the modest 3 bedroom apartment. I hit my head only once on the cavernous ceiling.
Blinking away the metaphorical stars from my sight I then felt the temperature noticeably shift, from that of the brisk cool of my attic, to the warmer climates of the middle floor.
I know this is not the cat's doing, because he has no access to the thermostat. None of us do.
I checked the bathroom, but should've know better. The only times he frequents this room is if it is needed by someone else, and though a shave might've been in order, I had no need for the facilities.
The kitchen is the next logical stop, not because kitchens and bathrooms have inseparable connection, merely that in the layout of this floor: the one precedes the other.
I passed through the makeshift curtain into the cozy room we'd dedicated to food storage and preparation, and begin my assessment as such.
Glass dining table is cat-free. The piling recycling stands untouched and uninhabited. It's monument to individual responsibility over systemic forethought stands tall. The small organic disposal receptacle, acquired with best intentions and abandoned when convenience trumped virtues, sits pristine and without feline. The fridge, though overfull with contents half inedible and half unidentifiable, has no cat or cats to be seen, least of all my own. The freezer has ice, both in trays and a makeshift box. In hindsight, both fridge and freezer were dead-ends at the onset, but exercising thoroughness in small tasks, relieves me from having to do so in the larger ones.
The sink has dishes in it because there are so few constants in this life; economics and sociological intersects may find themselves victim to ideological tectonic shifts, but watered down sauce in a bowl soaked from pasta lunches long past, still remains a stable pillar to be lent upon.
The stove top has some glasses drying upon it, they were washed in the midnight hours in attempts to combat the existential feeling that our individual agency is decaying, and so impulsive housework becomes an act of rebellion! Some will need to be rewashed as rebellious or no, these streaks are unforgivable.
The exercise of seeking my animal companion had reached it's end..
I then assumed the chilly climb to my topmost perch.
I only grazed my crown on the would be concussive roof top.
Before I could lament the cold of my perch in contrast to the lower level, however, my furry target is before me. Seated in my chair.
This was not the first time he has taken my place. However, this instance was unique from past impositions.
For one he seemed to have claimed a hat from my collection. This surprised me, as I could distinctly recall him never accepting my offer to wear one.
For another he was smoking a cigarette. A behaviour I'd never witnessed in him before. And one I discourage indoors, as we all do.
Before my indignity could be fully formed, my attention was then drawn to my opened laptop. He had taken on all my works, finished and unfinished alike. Old drafts were new, outlines now had dialogues. Emails to were being promptly responded to!
When did he find time for it all? Why was he not popping back and forth between erotic novels and videos of people playing video games and talking? What was his secret?!
Before I could ask him, he made a noise of impatience; signifying I had clearly interrupted an important composition.
I was instantly filled with embarrassment. I normally pride myself on being able to make an exit without needing to be told. Of all social failings that exist in this world, I can never be accused of an ill-timed retreat.
Head bowed, I apologized and made for the stairs.
Head still bowed under the weight of shame, I hastily descended from the high perch.
My head did not strike the roof.
A little victory, but a victory nonetheless.