Last Night.

Last night I dreamt I was in my old job. And David Cameron was my boss. This wasn't good because I didn't like being employed. And David Cameron was my boss.

We went to the airport. There were fireworks.

And then I was woken by the cat being very active - chasing up and down. I thought he was just being playful. I got up and threw a foam ball. He looked at me as if to say, you really expect me to chase that?

And then I realised he was already paying with something.

And then I realised it was a mouse.

I tried to remove the (very much alive) mouse from him. He growled a very deep, visceral growl, as if to say, "you take that away and I'm eating YOU!"

I tried again. He growled like something out of the Exorcist and took his new friend - sorry, snack - under the sofa. I reached under the sofa and he growled again.

It was 2.30 in the morning and, having battled with David Cameron, I really couldn't face wrestling a mouse from the cat. I went back to bed, during the door being me to stop the cat leaving me a reminder of the Godfather on the pillow.

When I next got up again, in the light, there was a dead mouse outside the bedroom door.

Thanks, cat.

Although at least I now know I might have mice...