Does my comfort discomfort you?
What would you have me do?
Lie on a bed of nails?
Put tacks in my shoes?
Quite early in life I was labelled a hedonist. I craved comfort the way some people craved adventure. It was my natural state. I mostly landed on my feet, things fell into place. This would annoy some people. I could see why but should I create a prickly existence for myself so others feel more at ease? I was feline. We had a cat who liked nothing better after a meal than to curl up on the lid of the rubbish bin and soak up the sun. I am like that though I prefer a mattress to the lid of a bin. But it does come with a cautionary tale:
Look at that little hedonist
Curled up on the bin
Better watch out the rubbish van
Doesn’t tip him in