We are having a small war with Twig the kit who has decided that we are no longer allowed to sleep after six am; to be honest I think I have been suffering gradual sleep deprivation for the past year and a half since the little sweetheart tottered into our lives.. I am an eight-hour-a-day girl; no Maggie Thatcher measures for me. Without it I tend to become grumpy and disoriented; focus leaves me and my eyes begin to resemble the star of an early vampire movie. We were introduced to Twig on Arran last year; having offered to run a friend's seafood restaurant in the wilds for the summer season we were ready for the unexpected, but a small kitten entering our lives and wrecking our sleep patterns had not been factored in. Some of the tunes I used to play at night in an attempt to lull her to sleep and deter her from homicidal attacks on my fingers are forever linked in my mind to these times...Her current restlessness takes a similar pattern of whining and playing with electrical items in an attempt to rouse me, and feeding is useless; it is not food she desires but attention and, preferably, an earlier dawn. I am still trying to explain to her that the latter problem is outwith my control.
Sooo... today I was tired and fractious from the outset, but to be honest I am sometimes amazed at my own resilience and my mood lightened by lunchtime until I was back in the world of happy smiley customer service. Maybe it had something to do with the imminent two day break from the Christmas shoppers; off tomorrow to see the Surrealists show at the Dean Gallery and painting on Sunday. As we near the close of another year I am optimistic that this will soon become normality.
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