There is a certain flow to my routines. Since they flow rhythmically and unfettered, I subconsciously repeat the same sequences every day…over and over again…forever. I catch myself sometimes and have a little chat with my reflection on the proper way for sane people to behave. Inevitably, my reflection sasses back during my exhaustive speech that I should shut up because sane people don't talk to themselves, either.

When I arrive home from work, I…

1. Walk to the iPod charging base to plug in my iPod
2. Walk back toward the entrance and place my car keys in the key basket
3. Pull my cell phone out of my bag, take it out of silent mode, and place it on the Power Mat to charge
4. Hang my bag on the door knob of the front door
5. Slip off my shoes on my walk back the other direction
6. Remove my coat and hang it in the closet
7. Feed Sophie

I am sure that if I inked my feet, I would be quite humored at the jumble of steps I would leave. It's probably not the most efficient sequence, but it gets the job done, and I can do it in auto pilot (that last bit is vastly important…can't rely on me to remember anything!).

As you'll note, my little routine involves the cat. My sequence is a Rube Goldberg machine, and feeding Sophie is the marble rolling into the little cup to raise the flag at the end. I did not fully appreciation my routine until today.

I came home, and Sophie was waiting for me at the iPod charger. She was underfoot as she raced to get ahead of me in front of the key basket, then the Power Mat. I hung my bag on the door knob and she pranced over to the closet while I removed my shoes. As soon as my coat was on the hanger, she ran to the kitchen like the devil was on her heels. She looked at me with eager eyes, sitting where I always set her bowl on the floor, and waiting for me to raise that glorious flag.

She was having a lot of fun, I could tell from her eyes. This was a game to her, this figuring out that the Food Giver is crazy—but who cares because it ends with food. At what point did the tides turn? I thought the cat was supposed to entertain me, not the other way around. Maybe it will all make sense after I talk it out with the mirror tomorrow morning.