Do the macarena

450am first conscious thought: I need to be more grateful that my life is so easy right  now.

I could taste the dregs of some dream about hardship clashing with the reality of my soft comfortable bed, and the day of non-manual labor ahead, but couldn't remember anything specific.  Also I couldn't actually access any feeling of gratitude, only the admonishment that I ought to feel some.

My cat Jack was still scratching at my bedroom door, the trigger that had pulled me from sleep.  He does this so constantly that there is a groove worn into the wood of the doorframe.  My irritation was too big, it was taking up all my gratitude space.  I yelled, "stop it!" before closing my eyes and praying for more sleep.

I dreamt I had adopted 8 year old twin girls.  They arrived with an entire entourage of doctor, social workers and lawyer.  The social workers were here to evaluate my suitability, the doctor to familiarize me with their vaccination history and medications - one had asthma, the other occasional epileptic seizures.

The twins had just been orphaned by well off suburban parents and knew how to speak several languages and dance ballet.  I carried them around on my back, taught them how to do the macarena, had serious conversations about what happens after death, signed a lot of legal papers and suddenly the door closed, leaving just me and my twins.

And no Jack.  Where was Jack?  I realized my beautiful giant fluffy fraidy cat Jack must have run out the door with the stampede of exiting professionals.   He was not an outdoor cat; also he was not remotely street smart.  I searched and called but eventually had to give up.  I felt frustrated and scared; I didn't know where he was and I was late for work.

603am the sound of Jack scratching urgently at my bedroom door.  I feel immediately, viscerally grateful.  He isn't lost outside; I know exactly where he is.