Five o'clock yesterday. Three-thirty today. This is not a good sign - my insomnia is clearly kicking back in.
I do suffer. Normally it's because my mind is too active, which is usually at peak times in my writing - getting to the end of the book or an important part. But the latest book is all but done, so there must be something else.
There are quite a few things that are on my mind at present, so it could be a combination. But the mind has it's way of relieving pent up stress, and it came to me in a dream the most likely cause... I'm worried about the cat!
There is no date set at present, but sometime early December, I plan to return to Brighton (where have I heard that name before?) for the winter. Normally when I'm away, the cat stays here. He 's fine for a couple of weeks with someone popping round to feed him. But three months is different. There's no way I can leave him for that sort of time. So he's got his pet passport, rabies injections etc. There is an airline that will fly him back to Gatwick as hand luggage. It sounds quite straight forward... and I'm dreading it! A trip to the vet is a trauma, and that lasts an hour at most door to door. But the best part of a day trapped in a cage! It's starting to sound cruel.
In the dream he had trapped his claw in some cloth and I tried to help. The things are retractible, but he still does this - pulls at it instead of retracting at times - dumb or what! Anyway, instead of pulling it free he kept pulling the claw out, getting longer and longer, going on and on, curling around. It ended up over a foot in length and needed to be cut off. I held him as he fought. Then my mum took some scissors to it (she's dead by the way). The cat was screaming as she cut the claw off. He was crying like a baby. It was awful. I woke up with cramp hitting both my calves. I was in quite a bit of pain. And there at my feet was the cat, curled up... sending out subliminal messages.
It's now after four. I've taken over half an hour to write this.
What is going on?
Need some sleep.