There's a cat trying to type on this computer. I'm cat-sitting. It's very exciting to have a whole flat to myself... well, myself and the cats. I got a good list of instructions, which explained everything about the house and the cats, so I should be okay, except I already managed to lock myself out.
I just woke up in the morning (covered in cats) when the postman rang, went to the door (folloed by cats) accepted a parcel, remembering the warning that Pixie the cat will always try to escape through the front door, so I pulled the door to the flat closed before opening the front door. I felt clever about that until I turned around and couldn't open it again.
I briefly wondered what the time was. In my house the post generally arrives at about eleven, if at all. I thought: oh no, I haven't even fed the cats yet, and that is the only thing I really am supposed to do... So I rang the other doorbell and the friendly lady from upstairs apologised a lot to me when she saw me in my pyjamas, she figured I wanted the other flat and said I should try knocking. I explained that this would not be much use because the person who would be expected to open would be myself, and she gave me the landlord's number, who came around and let me in.
Only then I realised that it was still just before eight o clock. If I'd known that I would have camped out in the corridor for a hour first... Where on earth does the post arrive before eight??
So I felt very sheepish, and was happy to get instantly covered in cats again. I gave them some food, and told them that I didn't think I was doing very well so far, but they jumped on my head and purred which I think means "oh, shut up" in cat.
I better not do anything else that involves calling up the landlord.
In fact, I'll run a bath now and have some coffee and then do some writing, I remember I got up in the middle of the night (putting aside the cats) and made some notes of ideas for the comic script. I'll check what they are once I'm properly awake and all...