I have quite crappy handwriting (unless I make an effort), and I can’t really say it’s better when I’ve just not-really-woke-up.
This is what I jotted down a few weeks ago, when still in that half-dazed state: (transcription below)
I had been working late, but still tried to get home and in bed reasonably early, when I discovered a man sitting in a corner of the office. He seemed rather disoriented, and the buses had stopped running, so … in the end, I brought him home.
I failed getting to bed early – didn’t sleep until 03 o’clock.
The morning after, I had forgot about him, and was slightly startled when I found him sitting in my living room sofa, on the edge of the corner.
He still looked rather disoriented, but I tried to get him join me for breakfast.
He didn’t really want anything special, but he did actually speak now – he had found some left over popcorns in a bowl on my living room table – and with a surprised tone uttered “Brains?!”
… I had dragged home a disoriented office zombie.