Snoring

Oh God. The tiny tiny little creatures…

Two tiny tiny tiny busy busy creatures. My skin has been raked by their probing claws. “They’ve been trimmed recently,” I am told. I lay on a sofa trying to hold a conversation with Lou while one of them burrowed into my armpit and the other one attempted to gnash through my midriff. They are incredibly welcoming kittens. I had loads of fun with them. I was sad to leave the place and make room for their owners. “They’ve both transformed into very attractive little rocks with the word “cat” written on them,” I joke to the owner as I’m leaving. “They definitely aren’t both in my bag.” I see a little flash of concern for a moment, disguised by logic. “Surely he would do it better if he stole the … I’m an idiot if course he didn’t… But did he?”

I’ve had the best three days. I’ve been part of a little team. The team was about snuggles. That is more helpful than the majority of teams that people are made to say they are part of in office jobs.

I’m now lying on the sofa next to Tristan. He has been banished ahead of potential snoring. The two of us are the most likely candidates so we are thrust together. Fine. I’ll finish this and go to deep sleep. Liverpool came so close to something incredible this evening. What a delight and what a shame. I’m done with popular culture and with cats.. I’m going to sleep. I’ll see before long how I cope with Tristan snoring…

What joy to have been catsitting. Such a pair of beauties. If I wasn’t so itinerant I’d get stuck in. But thank Prometheus… I’m busy…

Time to find out what it is to sleep next to somebody snoring. I’ve always thought it’s a relentless deliberate focus on the negative. Let’s see …