The missus is always jousting me to write when I watch my sitcoms and develop bedsores. The other day while she was executing the same sequence of jabs I threw some Murakami at her out of left field.
“Please thing of me like an endangered species and just observe me quietly from far away. If you try to talk to me or touch me casually, I may get intimidated and bite you. So please be careful.” 
“I am like an endangered Iriomote wildcat. I beg you not to come close and touch me.” 
“I’m looking for my own story. I’m digging the surface and descending to my own soul.”