When I woke (from an absolutely peaceful night of sleep, for a change), I was on my right side with my big down comforter bundled around me. Cricket had come up the right side of the bed and was asleep next to me with her head on my outstretched hand. I was so amazingly comfortable. I could have stayed right there and slept for another few hours, but eventually the call of nature turned into a yell and I had to move.

I hated to break the spell with Cricket. She and I seem to argue so much lately, and she's never been particularly cuddly. This morning was one of those rare times when I'm reminded why I harbor this essentially surly, aloof creature. She didn't even nip at my hand when I moved it.

I used to have those moments of simple friendship with horses. The summer I was eighteen, I worked at a stable with two barns and thirty horses. I had a partner and a barn manager, but we usually worked alone; we'd split up mornings and evenings (mornings are more work in a barn) and see each other only in passing. I would clean the stalls, then bring the horses in from the pasture. Sometimes they'd be far away, and I'd walk down to get them; when they saw me or caught my scent, they would turn en masse and start toward me. I was the Bringer of Food; they would greet me with low nickering sounds of welcome.

One of my favorites was a sweet, tiny gray pony called Foxy. Foxy looked like an anime pony, too cute to be real, all huge dark eyes and long flowing mane. I would rest my right hand on his shoulder and we would trudge together up the hill to the paddock and barn. Such a simple pleasure, to walk with a horse without a rope of any kind, just friendship keeping him close.

Cats are a bit touchier, and this cat in particular has something of a prickly personality. But there she was, curled up close with my hand as her pillow. That's just a good way to start the day.

I think I slept so well because I was so tired. I drove out to the burbs yesterday to check out a friend's new place (verdict: sweet! if you like the burbs). Unfortunately, I wound up driving back into the city at the height of rush hour. Do not talk to me about how the traffic is going the other direction at that hour. The other side may be slower, but no route is unclogged during rush hour. So the drive back was tiring.

It took over an hour to get into the city and find a parking space. I had to be extra-careful because my night vision sucks, frankly, and it makes me nervous. I don't want to hit some kid on a skateboard crossing against the light. People cause major damage bouncing off cars.

I had a neighbor who told me, "The best way to fuck up your car is to hit a deer or a person." We were looking at his station wagon, which was buckled and smashed inward after he hit a deer on his way back from a ski resort. Impressive damage, really.

By the time I got home, I was glassy-eyed with exhaustion and my head was killing me, undoubtedly from tension and eyestrain. I did a layout faceplant into bed and turned off the world. I tire so easily now, and the traffic was awful, but it was nice to get out of the city for a day and drive my car.

Like a lot of people in the city, I never drive my car. I find a resident permit spot where I can leave it, pay the parking tickets for street-cleaning days, and check on it periodically. So why do I have it? Because sometimes you just have to get the hell out of dodge.

Now that I've had a night of refreshing sleep (pardon the repetition; I'm so used to waking up several times a night that I'm amazed when I sleep clear through it), I have two major items on my agenda: work and laundry. The question of the morning is: what do you wear when all of your warm fuzzy comfort clothes have to be washed.

I don't know the answer to that yet. But I'm working on it. Just like I'm working on waking up.