the cat sat on the mac

The woman thus had difficulty typing.

It's a Friday night, in London. I've just finished a shift in the call centre, and I'm "home", in my temporary home for this week, house- and cat-sitting for a friend. I've got one emotionally needy kitten on my hands, who is clearly convinced that anything I am attempting to eat or drink must surely be her next favourite food if only she could try it.

I've been busy, and therefore mostly silent. It's been a while since I've had properly full days. It's been even longer since I've felt like I've got the energy to tackle them. I realised just the other week: I feel like myself, and that brought home to be just how far I've been over the last year from the self I enjoy being.

The cat's playing an energetic game of catch with herself. At this time of night, that doesn't bode well. This morning I woke with a start, opening my eyes to the surreal sight of the kitten sailing, in what seemed like slow motion, gracefully over the bed. She appeared suspended for a moment, but hit the ground in an explosion of frenetic energy. I now understand the phrase "bouncing off the walls".

Cat-watching aside, I've also been rehearsing this show. After the madness that was the film shoot in Poland, this called for an abrupt change of gears. I'm making theatre in a very different way from usual - "usual" being devising for me. Now, we have a text! We have a director! We had a set before we started rehearsing! We have someone else worrying about what the heck we're all going to wear on stage! It's a pleasant novelty. I miss devising though. Perhaps it's a good thing to learn that I relish a certain amount of chaos and unknowing in what I do.