Fucking Cat

Last night I was very, very tired after my big day of bike-commuting and starting my internship. I could barely keep my eyes open while I drank my chicory coffee substitute and read War and Peace in the evening, which is how I've been spending my down-time these days after my daughter's in bed for the night. So I went to bed early, getting ready around 9:30 and snuggling into bed just before 10:00 p.m. I was delighted to think of getting up to 8.5 hrs of sleep! I pulled the covers up to my eyes and settled in for a long, restful sleep, with the hopes of waking refreshed and invigorated and ready to tackle another day at internship.

The problem is, of course, things never work out quite the way I plan them. This time, what I failed to account for was - of all things - my cat. I have a kitten who is ridiculously cute and fuzzy and playful, and usually a lot of fun. She also usually sleeps through the night in bed with me, snuggling against my leg under the covers. Very sweet. Last night, however, she must have inadvertently (or advertently, as the case may be) ingested some crack-cocaine, because she hardly slept all night. This, in turn, means that I hardly slept all night.

My kitten, named Pippi (she has a black body with all white "socks" on her paws, with one long "stocking" of white up one leg, hence the name), refused to simply not sleep. She figured her sleepless time would be best spent eating my hair, walking on my face, attacking my feet, and trying to find ways she might be able to wedge herself between my neck and the pillow. I should have kicked her out of my room when I realized it was already after midnight and I still hadn't fallen asleep, but she's still a baby and I felt bad about her spending the night alone. Clearly, I'm a bleeding-heart idiot.

I did manage to fall asleep at some point, but was awoken again shortly after 5 am by that damn cat. I kicked her out of my room at 5:45 - 45 minutes before my alarm was set to go off - and couldn't fall back asleep, even in the peace of her absence. So my alarm went off at 6:30, and I wanted to cry. Instead, I rolled out of bed, stumbled to the bathroom, and began skilfully applying makeup to trick others into the illusion that I was remotely alive. I biked to school with greater effort than usual - probably due to the lack of sleep making my legs feel like tree trunks the whole way - and am now at work, trying not to fall asleep at the keyboard. My supervisor saw me walk in before I changed into my work clothes and commented that I must have been working hard to get here, given that I was drenched in sweat. You said it, brother! Another day of no real clients booked - and thank God for that.

Fucking cat.