Coco woke me up earlier after just 3 hours of sleep because she wanted to use the loo but has not evolved opposable thumbs to turn the door knob (yet).

As her human, it is my responsibility to perform all tasks requiring said opposable thumbs for her. Even if it’s at the ungodly hour of 630am in the morning.

At the very least, I hope that she is grateful – and suitably awed by my ability to turn door knobs.

Yet, I know she is rather indifferent to my capacity for making mini miracles happen for her. Except for when I make food happen. Regarding that, she is always excited.

At this point in the post, I have to pause and ask you (and myself) incredulously, if I have just spent the last five minutes writing about my dog and my near god-like relevance to her doggie life.

This is what happens when you combine a lack of sleep with a new found zeal for Godfinger. Be warned and let me be a cautionary tale for all of you who are not sleeping enough / playing too much Godfinger / both.

To end this off, I will like to let you know that I have just named half of my followers after The Beatles and their songs, while the others are now namesake of my favourite writers and characters. There is one female follower that I have named ‘Ruth’ – that is completely arbitrary; I just sort of like the sound of it.

Just thought you will like to know.

Now, back to that interrupted sleep.

(I am obviously mildly delirious when I wrote this. If you can’t tell, it is time for that routine head check of yours.)


One thought on “Sleep

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