January is a useless month

JANUARY is a useless month, steeped in disease and gloom. It’s a terrible month to start the year with. We should shift it and start with a different month. Maybe July? That’s a pretty good month to start the year with. Just imagine you have a New Year’s Eve Party knowing that the next day, day one, will be the 1st of July. Hang up the Parka, put on the shorts and sandals and head down to the beach with an ice cream in hand.

I woke up in the middle of last night in need of relief, a normal enough event after drinking a few Saturday beers. Bursting into the sitting room, I made haste for the toilet.

I wanted to turn the light on so that I wouldn’t walk into the clotheshorse standing somewhere in front of last night’s fading fire. But I didn’t want to wake up Albert, becasue if I did, he would demand immediate attention. It doesn’t matter what time it is, the existence of another presence in his space, means time to arise and be fed.

So I resisted the light, and semi sleepwalked in the dark past the couch where he slumbers. He jumped up immediately of course, with a delighted meow. ‘Good morning,’ said he, ‘forget it Albert’, said I, ‘It’s not the morning, it’s the middle of the night, and I am trying very hard to stay as close to sleep as possible, even though I am technically awake.’

As usual, he scooted out to the kitchen expecting to be fed, ‘Follow me,’ said he. I scooted back to bed, before he could catch me. He has been known to give me a little bite at times like this, or to jump up and grab my leg, with soft claws. Sounds cute, but not when you are trying desperately to hang on to the sandman.

The bed had all the warmth still intact, the covers wrapped around me, filling every cavity, snuggling up to the nape of my back where sometimes a pocket of cold can vex. But sleep seemed superfluous, I felt done, I had thought too much, and talked too much- to the bloody cat!

‘Shit, I can’t get up this early, the day will be useless.’ I should point out that I was in the spare room, right next to the main bedroom. I had a malady of some sort; they said it was the Australian Flu, whatever the hell it was; it made me cough all night long. So I went to the spare room, so that I could have the pleasure of coughing the night away without the added guilt of keeping Clare awake.

I hear Clare sneaking around and talking to the Cat, who was still insisting it was breakfast time. But then, remembering that it was January, I thought, ‘what if it’s deceptively dark?’

I reached down for my iPad to check the time – 9.05 a.m.!! I squeeze open the venetian blinds and peek through the rain flecked glass. A woman is flying past on the opposite side of the street beneath an olive green sky. She is pushing a fully equipped weather resistant pram.

Horizontal rain flies into her agonised expression, and tries to get in at the baby. She pushes against the mighty wind with the ferocity of a Panzer Tank. Behind her the oilskin-clad postman insists upon his mission, his glasses saturated beyond redemption. Neither snow nor rain will halt the completion of his appointed rounds.

‘ This!!! Is the way today begins?’

January. It’s enough to make you hibernate.

He has been known to give me a little bite at times like this. Sounds cute, but not when you are trying desperately to hang on to the sandman