It's been a long old week this one.
All a bit stressful.
Which is bad for me and worse for The Cat's Mother. I've become a rotten sleeper as I've got older, and never was particularly good. Grandma in Cyprus will happily recount tales of my childhood nightmares...and even now I can wake up in the middle of the night sweat dripping from me after a particularly tortuous dream.Wednesday night saw me downstairs at 4.00 am drinking tea whilst trying to settle my nerves. This morning I woke up thinking I'd had a terrific deep sleep, but vaguely remembered The Cat's Mother hadn't, I also remembered her throwing my arm away from her at some stage. Still I knew she'd been a little bit tense before we went to sleep, so assumed it all tied together.
Ah no. It wasn't quite like that evidently. At some stage she says I'd screamed out in pain because of cramp, and then spent the rest of the night tossing, turning, shouting and mumbling. Of that I have no memory whatsoever. But it does explain why I'm falling asleep at my desk today. I'm hoping she may be a bit more friendly, in the form of a Ukrainian truce when I get home this evening.
