The daily life of Balboa means him totally disregarding my personal space.
I lay on the couch and he sits on me.
I sit on the chair and he lays on me.
He's always seems to be somehow occupying my space when I'm at home.
It's almost as if he's an extension of my body, like an added limb.
And when he's not on me or right beside me, he's somewhere always watching me, like here.
He didn't exactly make folding laundry any easier for me.
Helping me wasn't his priority, watching me was.
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