Between unconsciouness and strangling a cat (okay, not really)

So lately I’ve welcomed a quirky feline ginger, Molly, into my house. She’s a cutie; however, she had the unfortunate experience, as a kitten, of being abused. Badly abused. To the point where people would try to adopt her and then give her back again. Luckily, she’s had more positive experiences since then and she usually adapts to new people and situations well.

Anyway, I moved across the country, for anyone who understands how big Australia is, I drove from Sydney to Adelaide to Perth. It’s 3 days of 12 hours a day of driving. Quite a feat, and Molly recently did this same trip – except she did hers by air.
At first she was quiet, she hid for a while and that was fine, but as time went on she got a little more relaxed, so relaxed in fact she decided that, being way too terrified during the day to come out from under the bed, must get her cuddles at 3:00am.

I’m one of those people who get up early, go to bed relatively early, and a 3:00am wakeup is a fraction too early for me. About 3 hours too early. And while she is adorable, that feeling is waning under the heaviness of exhaustion and a foggy mind — not to mention increasingly volatile moods.

But what does that have to do with writing?

Well, I find my cognitive faculties are running at half-strength, which means that my writing just isn’t up to scratch. Should I drink half a bottle of red wine and go to bed early? Should I take a sleeping pill? No! I have a much better solution. The cat is now going to sleep in a bedroom at the other end of the house until she settles in. That’s my plan. For now I’ll stay up and watch the X-Files or Star Trek (nerd alert – you’ve been warned.)

In the meantime I I’ll stay away from the actual writing and focus on the planning, editing and internal integrity of the story. It seems that a lethargic mind makes for a scattered and hole-filled manuscript. I’d rather write when I’m fresh than spend all that time editing my mistakes later. Don’t you think? Yep, a bit of sanity is shining through my beginning insomnia, beware the spiral of no sleep.

This is me, signing off as one very tired author grasping to reality with her fingertips.

Nighty-night

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