the little post of nothing

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I smell of apple crumble and marshmallows. The hair on my head believes itself to be a woolly hat; sweat threatens to ooze from my hairline and trickle annoyingly down my face. The fan in the corner keeps me cool. Ish. My t-shirt says, Wake up Happy, but I probably won't. Dora is curled up in Husband's underwear drawer. I opened it to put away some clean clothes and she decided to jump right in and snuggle up with his socks. I thought she might get out whilst I relaxed in the bath, but she is still there now and the clean clothes which need to go in the drawer below are piled neatly on the floor. They can wait. Husband says I pander to the cats, but they're like my babies, so I should be allowed to spoil and indulge them, yes? I have a cuddly giraffe on my belly, propping up my tablet. My legs are getting chilly. Should I simply pull the duvet over them? Or should I find the energy to sit up, lean across and turn the fan off? Why are there so many difficult decisions that need to be made?!