The hang of weekends.

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Wow, didn’t think I could even shitter about posting every day, but here we are, the day after a blank space. Again. I didn’t even have the excuse of a full agenda like I did today either.

I helped a friend meet, and decide to adopt, via the Ottawa Stray Cat Rescue, a new friend, a stripey polydactyl with more toes than Hamish had. He’s a sweet creature and I hope they can be buddies for a hugely long time.

I actually dreamt a sad thing last night about Hamish. I was sure he had slept with me, on me, his giant, warm, furry shape heavy on my chest, but when I got up in the morning and carried him downstairs in the morning, no one else could see him. Then I woke up for real. So I dreamt within the dream. No wonder I slept so poorly. REM2

So disappointing.

I also dreamed about my mother and trivia/work burdens. Very busy brain last night.

Despite feeling like refried zombie this morning, the cat thing was great, lunch at the Prescott was great, then the Fury made it to the NASL final (we did not rush the field), and then we came in second at trivia (very lucky, as our first round was a disaster).

So, things worked out despite a fucking four hour sleep interruption. I nearly cried this morning because facing the day seemed impossible. But it wasn’t. But now I feel like hell, and am hardly grammatical, nor interesting, so it’s time to try this zzzzzz thing again.

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