Cheese dreams?

Spent part of this morning seeing to the manicuring of a cat's bum; life is a whirl of glamour here.

Our more portly lady cat needed help in the grooming of her nether regions, so with a brush to detangle, a baby wipe to restore the pinkness and a very large squirt of anti-bac to my own paws, the deed was done. It merely illustrates how the furry members of the household infiltrate your daily life and routine, making commonplace actions that would not have previously been considered. From 5am to 8.30am I slept on the sofa in the studio under a small coat, as Twig was having one of her major benders, using her devil cat lungs to their fullest and taking out whatever fury drove her on the curtains.

Once my mood was restored by the cure-all cup of tea, we jaunted to the local supermarket to make use of their kind £10 offer once more; two more chickens and a big slab of mince. Stu was off today, so we really scored from his cheffing skills this week I must confess; apart from chastising me for my lack of respect/cleaning of the stove. Both chickens were portioned and frozen away in leg and breast packs, and the remainder converted to two more tubbies of stock.

I had been thinking of Moussaka, but once the beef mince appeared, we did some lateral thinking and invented something not quite a moussaka, not quite a lasagne; you guessed - a Moussagne. Quite what this constitutes I will have to hold in store for another episode, as tonight was a curry night as I had a necessary but unexciting appointment with my day-cash-job that kept me to an unusually late hour; returned home to a warming curry and a shining cat's arse. Things of wonder all around.

An interesting question was posed to me today in the course of my money-making; 'What is the difference', a lady customer asked, 'between a skeleton and a fossil?' She was, as I understood it, helping out with her son's homework, although I would have been unsurprised if this was not the case; working in customer service gives people the right to ask you anything at all for no reason. As I stuttered through an answer revolving around bones, fossilised leaves and amber, she cut in; 'Is that how the skeletons stay standing up then? I gave up.

A cheering anecdote to demonstrate that even professionals in their field have their little off days. Stu, he of the butchering knife and tubs of stock, Moosagnes, burgers and curries, was sporting a mystery cut on the end of his nose today. When challenged, he confessed to having cut it 'on a tomato'. Yes, that's what I thought. It transpires that he was interrupted while chopping a large pile of beefsteak tomatoes and in a fit of whimsy, held one in front of his nose, as if it were, well, a nose; the scratchy stalk bit cut him. There is hope for all of us.

Finally, I had one of my more repetitive and alarming dreams, probably due to my stint on the sofa. Staying in a mystery student style accomodation, with many many rooms and occupants, I kept stumbling into other peoples rooms in a state of undress. As if this weren't enough, my old school chum, who I am visiting in a week, was strutting about organising a musical performance for the next day, while wearing a really psychotic outfit and pink sunglasses. The problem was that I knew none of the words or music and had no clothes, but she was insisting on my attendance and, indeed, performance in this unknown musical. It follows a theme I am familiar with unfortunately - all answers welcome - and always leaves me feeling somewhat drained.

And now I come to think of it, my extra-curricular work activity involved cheese tasting, so heaven forbid, I have just encouraged another night of somnambulant stress...