10:41.

Yesterday morning, I woke up with my hands around my alarm clock. If it was big enough to be hugged, that would be what I was doing.

The Alarm On button was down, indicating that I must have grabbed it from the left side of the bed, where it sat on my little bedside table, slammed the button down and then turned around - still holding it - to sleep on my right.

But when I woke up, it was earlier than the time I set the alarm for. Which means I couldn't had grabbed that dependable plastic purple clock because it was ringing.

Maybe I dreamt that it did....

If you introduced me to someone today, and that someone asked, "So what do you do?", I wouldn't have been able to say "I'm a journalist".

Rather hard to get used to, this thought.

I'm not used to it yet, but the next week probably will move along so fast I won't have time to feel displaced.

I was at a press conference this afternoon, tagged along with an entertainment colleague who was nice enough to allow me along.

And yes, I did introduce myself as from the ex-paper (new term! copyrighted!).

So I guess tomorrow is our proper first day.

Here's to sweet dreams.