[m i a o w] the cat

I don’t think my bad sleep last night was anything
to do with the futon mattress that I sleep on which is on the floor of my
mother’s study. I’m not sure what it was - maybe the soy chai that I made
with my new chai syrup (trying to make my own Hudson’s
Coffee Chai Latte) - anyway, whatever it was, I had weird frustrating
dreams. I dreampt that my mum and Christine had organised me

to play ten songs on guitar at this
little venue near where I’m staying. I thought it might be kind of fun,
and was feeling OK about it because I thought I’d be playing my acoustic
guitar. But when I asked Chris whether this would be OK, she said I should
definitely play electric. That’s when I got worried, because I haven’t played
for a while and my hands were stiff. So in my dream I began to practice.
Chris was there. I couldn’t remember any of my songs. So she suggested I
play Like
It - a Bidston Moss tune. So I kept beginning it, and kept beginning
it, but couldn’t get past the first verse. It was starting to drive me nuts
and by this time I was half awake, unable to comprehend why the hell I couldn’t
get any further in the song. Then my mum knocked on my door to wake me up.
I lay there for a minute and then it jumped into my head: Take off, my
dress, it’s not, dirty, don’t mind, windows…I’m not ashamed. But just
as I typed this I realised the other reason that I may not have known the
words - I don’t sing them. Chris does. *sigh*