so ends my six day, 49 hour work week. i certainly feel tired, but it's not the kind of tired i've felt the last few weeks, that is, it's the kind of tired that can be cured by a simple sleep and a morning spent with the cats and a few breakfast nibbles. i really wonder what was up on those other days, i can't recall ever feeling more tired in my life. a hard change of seasons this year seemed to be going around, judging by all those i'd talked to; the autumn came abruptly this year. i'm thinking that was most of it.

so it was a long week, but i'm pleased to say i did manage to get in one night of tequila debauchery and another night spent drifting between classic house at lucky, courtesy of lux and moe, and prog and hard house at hush, courtesy kenzie and braeden. a good night out, my first in quite a while.

as for plans for my days off, so far i have few. tonight i'm tired, but it's the good kind of tired, the kind which, fuelled by a corona or five, will most likely have me screening dreams long before the hours reach double digits. as for recent dreams, well, what dreams i might have remembered from last night were dashed to pieces by a very unusual event this morning, a source of very much confusion.

the cats, bless their tiny furry souls, are very much creatures of habit, perhaps more so even than i. when i woke this morning on my left side, that is, facing right were i mushed belly forward into the bed, my eyes first beheld the black outlines of one jennifer the cat. dimly conscious, i then noticed to the left the calico cat very much lost in dreams. ouch, my hemispheres! jenny's always on the left and calico's always on the right! for a hazy moment this very morning, i thought perhaps for all these years i've had the whole world all wrong. seriously. there i am at eight this morning lying in bed scrunching my fingers under the duvet trying to figure out which hand i write with. it was easily 45 seconds of potentially world-changing confusion before i started thinking about how to blog the experience.

the world, of course, is unchanged. and i've almost dismissed the thought that the cats were deliberately fucking with my head. and i'm still left-handed for writing and right handed for almost every other thing. but it was a moment of disorientation like ones i've often paid good money to experience, an unexpected part of life, lost somewhere between the alarm and the bashing of the snooze bar. my kingdom always for nine minutes more.