I've just been informed that there's an entire subculture of folks--Fluffs, they're called--who feel most comfortable when dressed in fluffy costumes. They wear bunny ears or cat tails or furry little mitts--a sort of cross dressing for the animal-loving set.
Which brings me to the wings I've been constructing for years and reminds me of a friend I once had who I was certain was part-bird. From her toes to her nose to the weird way she hung out in trees, I was almost always waiting for her to fly away. (Eventually, she did.)
C. and I are in Colorado where it's gray and rainy. I have just lifted my feet for the vacuuming maid; she has just spied my trashcan littered with mini Milky Way wrappers that I hoarded--squirrel-like--from the glass bowl at the front desk.
I think with pregnancy I feel more and more animal. Eat, sleep, hug, eat. Dream: fitful, wild, little bear of a baby born. Now, to nap, then slip on my furry slippers and stalk the halls of the hotel until dinner time.