Life lived on a stool

dash on stoolToday I came home from the store to find my cat sleeping in the most unusual spot. He had his big old self curled up on top of my teeny, tiny bathroom stool. ( I also made the mistake of draping my black towel over of course that  was full of cat hair.)

As I took this picture I wondered how he could actually rest comfortably knowing that any stretch or move could send him rolling  right off the edge. Why would he choose to be so tightly folded in on himself when there were many other, more generously sized, places to lay down, spread out and truly relax?

Then it suddenly dawned on me that I was looking at a visual representation of exactly how I do not want to live my life; cramped and self imposed limitations.


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