Clawing attitude

I sit here with a cat perched dangerously on one thigh, cigarette in one hand, diet coke in the other. It's like a circus. I've learned to do the balancing act. And it's pretty dangerous because we're talking about fire, glass, and claws which could dig deep into my thigh and make me scream. It's a scenario for disaster, Then again, it couldn't. Depends how you see it. If my cat dug into my thigh then I'd scream lose the Diet Coke and burn myself in the process. The other way round. If my cat dug into my thigh I'd drop my Diet Coke on the cigarette, put it out, drench the cat in Diet Coke which would lead to the cat scurrying off in fright. And yet I just chose the first scenario. What a flipping pessimist. Forget the half full, half empty glass, that has become sic. This is far more interesting because it involves live mammals and a whole lot of action. That makes me a pessimist, a drama-loving pessimist. I cannot take the looking into the glass, seeing my attention span is less than that of a fly. I need the drama, the burning, the glass breaking, the cat, the claws, and my poor poor thigh. If I were a little person about to start a P.E. lesson at school, a lot of people would be calling 179, Sedqa, Appogg. Unfortunately I cannot even begin to count the scratches, since I cannot turn my backside, although wouldn't I love to see it. Then again, that would probably make me depressed, it's the same as in being cheated on. What you don't know won't hurt you. I believe in that. Although I do not believe in a farce. But then if it's all a circus, why ever not? Le Pailasse triste... it's not just the clown who puts on a brave face, and tries to hide his sadness with paint. I do that too. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. But you've got to survive somehow, and I choose the cat and the claws over the glass.