Slowly and dimly become aware that I am no longer asleep.
Wonder what day it is. Can’t remember.
Try, and fail, to remember something that happened
yesterday.
Yesterday?
Wonder what the weather forecast was for today.
Decide that it doesn’t matter because it is almost certainly
going to rain.
Wonder whether the cat has peed on the kitchen floor again.
Reflect on the possibility that someone else might clear it
up.
Dismiss the idea as implausible.
Become aware of mild nagging pain.
Decide that it is the first symptom of terminal illness.
Spend some time imagining all bodily functions failing one by one.
Would it be better to stay in bed for the rest of my life
(however short)?
Perhaps I am hungry. If only I could remember what day it
was I would know what was for breakfast, eggs or not.
Remember some daft line about a flask of wine, a loaf of
bread and thou beside me singing in the wilderness. Willing to forego all of
that for a cup of tea.
Cautiously extend right leg and flex toes. Usual cannonade
of small arms fire as joints crack.
Repeat with left leg.
Surprised there is no reaction.
Turn head carefully (in case it falls off) sideways and see empty pillow.
And suddenly all is well in the world. The sun is shining
and the birds are singing fit to burst!
OH is already up, will have cleared up after the cat and
will shortly arrive with tray of tea.
(And it turns out to be Wednesday and scrambled eggs for
breakfast).
