A few nights ago, as I lay comfy in my bed, and pondered my many dissatisfactions with my life, I had a revelation. I need to find a job where I get paid to fall asleep and dream; it's something I'm really good at.
Another thing I'm really good at is being dissatisfied with things. I'm sure there's a company or department somewhere that urgently needs someone just to be grumpy. But I don't want to work too many hours, I need time off to stuff around (yet another thing I'm particularly good at).
I'm actually not that dissatisfied with my life. In fact, it's pretty good; having a comfy bed to sleep in every night is pretty fantastic. So is being able to eat whenever/whatever I want. And being safe and warm at night due to living in a comfy and secure flat. Although, as I live with a wild animal (Ms Willow Pussycat), there is always the possibility I could be mauled to death in my sleep. (I'm sure there have been instances of domestic cats killing their owners). But I think I'm safe as long as I keep feeding her and sitting in a position most amenable to her sprawling across my lap. Even if it means losing the blood circulation in either or both of my legs. Gangrene be damned!
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