As I intimated yesterday, it's strange to suddenly be in a position where I have less to do, in comparison to the mad panic dash that led to last week's shows in Brighton. That's not to say that I don't have things to be getting on with; I just feel a little purposeless compared to how things were in the last few weeks.
At least I've managed to do more today than my cat. She has recently taken to sleeping on the chair closest to my living room window, after having been completely indifferent to it in previous months - and today, she's only really moved from it to (1) check on the food situation in the kitchen or (2) to pester me for some of what I'm eating. I know cats sleep more than most other species, but her lack of effort for anything has to be seen to be believed. She'd snore if she could muster up the energy.