Lassitude & Gloom

I take it back; I think I must be legitimately sick, one way or the other. There's no other reason I can think of, for being quite this feeble. I had thought perhaps to hoover a room this morning, given that poor Ruth will have to sleep in it, but nah - too much for me.

I'm back to the sofa, me. Where my useless cats will continue to fail to nurture me, even by so little an effort as sitting on me. It's too much to ask, apparently. They have better places to sit.