I must say

That there is at least one resident of my apartment who lives the high life, 24/7. And that resident would be my kitty. She is at the moment stretched out, legs akimbo, on the Ottoman Empire (a blue Pottery Barn ottoman placed in the bay window of my living room), of which she is Queen, sunning herself. She takes the occasional break, hopping down with a meow to flop on her side on the floor so I can scratch her. Sometimes she'll hop in my lap. In the morning, when I get back from the gym, we play. She likes to pull all the toys out of her toy basket with her teeth, then roll herself up in the carpet like a burrito.

I'm in between interviews at the moment for a story I'm working on and I just finished lunch. And nowhere near as relaxed as the furball to my right. When she gets really relaxed, she snores, and it sounds just like you'd think a kitty snore would.