The lapse in transmission has been due to the most stressful period of the entire year, examining. I have had a great many papers, and I find the whole business extraordinarily stressful. It’s the sheer dread of losing something or mistranscribing a mark. I think I have got my biggest and nastiest job away in the course of today, so that’s good, even excellent.
Also on the subject of nightmares, it became clear to me some little while ago that cats suffer from nightmares too. Miss Kit, dead asleep, was making the most peculiar noise. I gave her my attention and realised that what was going on was a sub-vocal caterwaul. Her feet flexed too, and it was clear that she was defending herself against some frightful enemy (probably Mrs Grey Cat) with all her might. The strange, aeolian-harp weebling reached a kind of crescendo, she jumped, and woke up — quite bewildered for a moment, then clearly terribly pleased that whatever she’d thought was happening, wasn’t. If only I could say the same about the scripts.

7 Responses to “Nightmares”

  1. carol Says:

    Just so long as we’re sure the wee feline wasn’t having nightmares based on scampering and weebling actions she caught the beleaguered marker making in her own sleep?

    I’ve temporarily stuck nose above my marking swamp to find my Tax return still smirking at me… swap you?

  2. Jane Says:

    I managed to do my tax return in an an undignified, panicking flurry, not at all long ago. It was horrible. Having achieved it …. no, dear.

  3. the tropical godpapa Says:

    Well I really don’t know what you girls are making such a fuss for. I have to complete TWO tax returns a year - one for Britain, one for Malaysia - plus fielding the British Inland Revenue’s repeated attempts to tax me on my Malaysian income.

    The term ‘Double Taxation Treaty’ does not (I hope) strike terror into your hearts. To me it is an incarnation of the TWISBY.

  4. carol Says:

    ‘Undignified panicking flurry’ seems to cover it most pithily. Today I have made progress with the ruddy thing and lack only one useful piece of information that my pc took with it to the grave. If the nice ladies of College Finance can poke a couple of their own computer keys tomorrow and scribble a single number on a piece of paper for me- result happiness, etc.

    Dear Godpapa- I quail at the idea of the Tropical Tax Twisby- an importunate furry leech with tiny pith helmet comes to mind- I can’t think why.

  5. The Canadian Professor Says:

    How about a loud cry from the Tropical G: no taxation without (personal) representation.

    And, for all, accountants?

  6. the tropical godpapa Says:

    Dear Carol and the Canadian P - So far my trusty double-edged wits have kept both the Tropical and the British Tax Twisbies at bay. Recovering, as I rapidly am, from a grievously broken hip, I shall soon also have a pretty chunky walking stick free with which to berate the said Twisbies.

    Their Twisbotic demands have so far been moderated by the rememberance that the last Twisby that darkened my door went up in smoke pdq in an auto da fe accompanied by lavish invocations of that well known exponent of international reconciliation, Philip II.

  7. carol Says:

    Dear Canadian Prof,

    Alas that I have currently arrived at the most invidious rung on the academic employment ladder: maximum confusion for much less income! It would be a Quixotic accountant who took me on this state…

    The fair Pat of Finance did indeed press a magic button on her pc and produced the single piece of paper capable of solving my arithmetical impasse before bedtime tonight.

    When I enquired this morning about the causes and prospects of my mysteriously delayed train, the cheery ticket snatcher in charge of excuse-making suggested it might be ‘the wrong sort of chicken on the line’. If headless, I thought, at this crucial point of ‘can still get it in before the deadline’, it wouldn’t be the only one.

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