"Wouldn't it be nice to be a pigeon" flashed through my mind today. I think I am unwell.
Although context for the thought was that I was trying to force myself to read Torts, while the pigeon was taking a bird bath.
Still. Couldn't I have looked beyond the pigeon? Couldn't I have wished I were a tree blowing in the wind? Or at least, perhaps, a finch?
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