I’m sitting here and all of a sudden have writer's block. It seems that writing is not my strongest skill, but one I am interested in continuing and my biggest critic is sitting at my desk staring at me with what looks like an expression that could have so many meanings. His name is Mitttens. It's all I could think of, because when my hands were cold in the winter, all I had was a pair of mittens, and it reminded me of a cat's paw. Mittens is a great cat, besides the occasional paw door bangs I get while I am sleeping. I was hoping the coffee would kick me into gear, but it seems like mittens is the only thing that is giving me my creativity and attention at the moment. His expression tells me I should give up. He’s so angry looking and focused like he is reading me like a book. It could be that he is trying to signal me to give him his snack early like I’m his own personal butler. It’s okay. I don’t mind putting my needs behind me to make my cat happy. I could be having one of the loneliest days of my life and one look or meow from him makes me feel like I have something to live for. I'll keep pushing my suicide agenda to another date and time. His eyes seemed like there was so much wisdom locked up inside. As I can tell, he really just wants to sit and be the center of attention. As he sits there, I realize I might stuff my little buddy and place him on my desk when he's gone. He's just not moving and is completely still and silent. You would think that his fur is worth a fortune by how soft it is. I believe that's why he always comes around with this look of I am better than you face. He is truly royalty and his face says it all.