The Cat from Porlock

Oh God, I hope we get to do this play again, because I know I can make it better. Yesterday afternoon I had a long conversation with my girlfriend, who is a genius script editor and writer, and she pointed out that there is something small but important missing in the last scene. Within minutes I had a new version of the last scene in my head, almost identical to the version that exists now, just a little different but an awful lot better. And then I woke up this morning and dozed for a moment, and half-dreamed, half-imagined Sian and Terry speaking the new lines in my head. And I was just about to get up and scribble the lines down - when the cat jumped on the bed, and settled her elegant little head on my ankle. So of course I had to stay there until she'd had a twenty minute nap and no longer needed me as a head rest. And of course during that time I drifted off to sleep myself. And of course when I woke, I couldn't remember anything that Sian and Terry had been saying.

Cats are brilliant.