The somnambulist

Woke up at 4am to Calliope fighting in the Twitten. Got up and went downstairs for a glass of water, coughing chestily and feeling rough. Sleepwalked to the station and caught the train to London. Arriving at Victoria I felt shaky, and exhausted so I resolved there and then to get on the next train to Brighton. Luckily the agency I am working with at the moment were okay with this - as taking days off like this is not a great idea, and of course I lost the day's wages.

Home and after an astonishing five hours heavy sleep on my sofa, felt vastly improved. So much so that I went out with Lorraine in the evening to our usual Friday night haunts feeling fairly human. Enjoying a curry in our usual place, with Lorraine being spoiled by Ash the owner as usual.

Calliope seems to boss this end of the Twitten now, despite being a very small cat for her age. When I returned home in the morning, I saw her chasing off a white cat literally twice her size, which was loping in front of her like an alarmed lamb. It's all about attitude.