In the early hours of Sunday morning, I was woken by the sensation of being tossed around in my bed. After quickly checking that I was not on board the Titanic and wasn’t about to drown, I determined that the shaking of my bedroom was part of a vivid dream and went back to sleep.

   On Sunday afternoon I became aware that my ‘vivid dream’ was, in fact, an earthquake that struck the Emilio-Venetia region. Good one, Kris! This does make me probably the best sleeper I know, though - so that counts for something, right? (Does it count for a trophy? Tell me it counts for a trophy.)

   I was feeling pretty lucky to have remained unscathed - and very pleased that I didn’t have to drink my own pee inside of a zebra, Bear Grylls style - until this morning, when I realised that we’re almost out of Nesquik.

   I have so many feelings. ):