I am sat on my bed with the laptop, which I am still getting used to. I would rather be in my bed, snuggled up, fast asleep but I volunteered to do the 12am and 2am kitten feeding shifts tonight. Even with an alarm set I daren't go to sleep in case I sleep through, depriving the wee mites of their vital milk.
Sadly two of the six have passed. They really are fragile little creatures, so unlike Bomber and Bruiser, the heavyweights of handrearing.
So I shall wile away the hours trying to come to terms with a touchpad. I worry about being on the internet when so tired late at night. My defences are low, who knows what I will buy on ebay or perhaps I will turn into one of those women you read about in the 'real life' magazines and meet and marry a death row convict thousands of miles away.
Or maybe, I'll just come back here and waffle about the latest goings on in the Big Brother house whilst watching the tripe they roll out on tv at night. What have the tv planners got against shift workers?
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