Being the favourite makes me tired.

For some reason, Hobble has decided that I am totally the best thing in the whole world – but only at 4am. I now know why Ed had so much angst over being the clear favourite in the middle of the night; I’m running on day 5 without sleeping straight through the night and it’s making me hazy. While Hobble doesn’t give me the oral loving that he does Ed, he does take great delight in head butting me very hard then rubbing his face all over mine. Once I’m good and hairy, he flops around and lies across my face. It is very cute and endearing, but it’s also 4am and I just want him to sit down and sleep. I’m tired of waking up and coughing up hairballs or just plain being unable to breathe. This morning I tried to trick him by getting up to go to the bathroom, except he followed me there and back again – and climbed back up onto the bed to drape his 22lb body across my mouth and nose.

Last week I deleted my Twitter account after getting myself into trouble – again – because I forget that people can actually see what I say. You think I’d be used to the theory behind the whole “internet” thing, but you’d be wrong. I reactivated the account this morning. Let’s see how long I can go without putting any appendages in my mouth!

I do believe that next weekend I am going to scoot the Sunshine Coast. Anyone want to come with? It’ll be epic!

Lastly, I am beyond amused that my new pants match my shoes.