I do not see why I should have to be a person. It would be so much more restful to be a cat. It's 10.20 on Sunday night and this is the first chance I've had to sit down to write a whole lot of reports. Which I don't awfully want to do. Moan. Sulk. I would much rather do something else, for example lie in the bath reading the very interesting biography of Samuel Johnson which is on my bedside table.
Mutter mutter. Why can't I be one of the idle rich?
Still, I've started my Christmas shopping. Just. Now don't tell me if you're one of those people who have all theirs wrapped because I've got my fingers in my ears. Lalalalala - can't hear you.
Better get on. Reports don't write themselves.