The little cat woke us up before dawn. She was very polite, scatching the bedroom door ever so gently for quite some time. She usually never comes inside at night. Eventually, the smells hit me and we spent a while clearing up her mess. She screamed like a baby when I tried to touch her, with her ears all hot, and went off to hide in some place where I would have to crawl on my belly to try and grab her. Which I didn't. R mumbled something about nine lives and cats and fuck this and that was that.

Instead, I tried to get back to sleep while the dawn chorus set off at full force and I counted how many days until I can pick up S from the airport and then I thought that maybe downstairs a poisoned little cat was dying and then we overslept, incl. the cat who is very well, thank you.

So now I will do the ironing, which at times can be a calming and contemplative exercise, and I will dream of becoming  a woman of great courage. 
After that, I have to get on with translating some stuff on lipomodelling (which is the process of relocating autologous fat to bla bla bla). Argh.