Why is it that when I wake at 4 on a Monday morning it usually takes me at least 2 hours 30 minutes to get back to sleep. Whereas when the alarm wakes me at 7 and I hit snooze I fall asleep again straight away Well? Well?
And why is that last 30 minutes of sleep so full of dreams? This morning there were incidents of changing clothes as I looked for something for work but could only find tracksuit tops And then something about a film about a German soldier during WWII being recruited to go back to Germany as an undercover spy after he’d been captured and shown what was really going on. And then talking cats. Or maybe a cat that turned into a person. I can’t remember exactly.
Still, at least I know the origin of that last dream. Cause the family at home are in the process of possibly adopting a stray cat which has been coming around. Only it is very shy, so whenever it gets spotted the sister and the mother put out food and then run inside. And much care must be taken before the beast is released from the confines of the house. You know, in case he devours it So that is where the idea of the cat appeared from, I’m guessing. But it wasn’t that stray, because it is black and white, whereas the dream cat was a great big tabby. Although he was round the side of the house where we’ve been feeding the stray. But he had something in his mouth, something soft and vaguely grey. Which I assumed was a rabbit, but didn’t think anything else until I found another cat sitting in the shed, and then as I turned around saw that Mr. Big Old Tabby actually had a kitten in his mouth.
And once he realized that I knew that it has a kitten he dropped it, and that is when he spoke, saying something about the kitten having a broken leg, and he was only taking it away to be taken care of. But I knew what sort of taken care of he meant, and it wasn’t the nice kind. Oh, no. More the rabbit in a vice and look at this big old sword style of “taking care” of something.
Ah, Father Ted. Sheer genius.
While I was in Sligo I was discussing phones with the brother, he’s been thinking of getting a new one, but doesn’t want to go online to buy one, and hates the idea of going into a phone shop. Don’t ask me why. But his phone has died so he needs to get a new one. And over the weekend, the other brother’s phone also died. Or maybe was murdered would be a more accurate description. It was manslaughter at the very least. See he went fishing. As you do. And was walking into the lake a little. And then he went in a little further. The water just over his ankles.
And then he went a little further. Just a step or two. And suddenly he was waist high in water, and stuck. Couldn’t get himself out and had to wait for the cronies to come and pull him free. Although he did remember to get them to take a photo first. What he didn’t remember was to take his phone out of his pocket. And if the water didn’t kill it, then the hairdryer did.
So two new phones needed at home.
Speaking of the brothers, I decided to get them tickets to the rugby in November for their birthdays. One had his 20th in July, the other will be some age or other in November. So I figured I’d get them two tickets. OMG! is the Irish rugby site slow? So slow that a slow snail could move faster. But I think I’ve managed it, two tickets for Ireland v Australia on Nov the 19th. Although I suppose I’m lucky that the brother couldn’t decide if he wanted an extra ticket or not, cause you are limited to 2 tickets per credit card. Not per person though. Which they could have done, because you have to log in as a supporter to get them, and then buy. So they are helping out rich peoples who have multiple credit cards. Unfair, says I.