Bleugh

I woke up this morning long enough to ring work and say I felt terrible and wouldn't be coming in, then went back to sleep. I think Seamus did the same. At least with both of us feeling dreadful we have company in our snotty, phlegmy, hacking state and can each look after the other (he struggled up first and I was woken with pancakes, the lovely boy).

We've spent the day feeling ill and drinking tea and playing with our computers.

Bleugh bleugh bleugh.

I had a dream last night...

...what a lovely dream it was.

I was sitting in my kitchen, reading, when the back door opened and Menelaus slipped through. I put down my book and picked him up, "But, sweetie, you're dead!" he purred and snuggled in to my chest. I looked, his grave was disturbed, he'd just been asleep all the time, like in a coma, not dead at all! So when he'd woken up he'd climbed out and come inside.

I sat with him and stroked him, petted him, played with him, felt his warm little body against my hands and face. I kissed him. I woke up.

Surprisingly, waking did not upset me, although it meant I remembered that he was dead. I've been wishing and wishing for one last chance to hold him, to say goodbye, and I think my subconcious gave me that last night.