Space? Space? You would think that living alone, all that space is mine. No one else's wardrobe to contend with...Only my shoes... Only my books...Only my hobbies. And yet my home feels amazingly crowded.
They invade every nook and crany of my home. Everywhere I want to be they are- on the couch, in the bed, laying on the laptop, on the work table, oy, even drinking out of the toilet (foul disgusting habit, bad gross Toscabelle!!) How about in the suitcase (ok, zipped in the suitcase while I went to Houston. Bad mommy... stupid stupid Toscabelle. At least Artemis was happy being a single cat again for the day.)
I love my two fur balls, but what I wouldn't do for a smidge of space to myself.