Comfort

Some days I find it tough to get going.

Realisation that I'm getting as lazy as our cat usually provides sufficient spark to get my arse shifting.

Note: she's not really as lazy as me, as she goes out to massacre the local wildlife every night as I sleep. To prove this (and to remind me) she artfully drapes their broken bodies around the hall or stairs, to be discovered in the morning, or worse still, under the bed to only be discovered when they start decomposing and stink the place out. Cats are gits.