More About the Cat's Habits

The cat has a new game he likes to play: One of us (usually me) tries to go to bed. The other then sneaks outside through the cat door and lets loose with a shocking and bewildering array of nocturnal noises, concluding a few plantive mews at the bedroom window. The one in bed then cries out "be quiet kitten, that won't work this time."

"That's right," says her boyfriend. "You'd better not let him make a habit of this."

The one outside then proceeds to make a few more intermittent mews, mews with just enough time elapsed between them to allow one to (theoretically) begin to drift off. The one in bed's boyfriend may have gone to sleep by this point, or may be off getting a glass of water, or maybe it's one o'clock in the afternoon, and only those who have trouble sleeping nights are abed. Anyway the mewing continues. And the one in bed's willpower crumbles, and the window is opened, and purr purr purr purr purr, the cat was never cuter.

And then the window is closed, the cat runs outside, and the game begins anew. Finis. (Except not really).

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Statistics

Hours of sleep I got last night: 3
Hours before I have to teach: 4
Ratio of clean clothes to dirty in my bedroom right now: roughly 1:five billion
Days since I last showered: two? three? ten? I'm not sure.

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At least the cat's happy

I just woke up from my second nap today. The cat is a major fan of my new sleep schedule. The rest of the day, he prances and demands and hisses, but once I'm recumbant on the couch we become the best of friends. For the last two hours, he slept on the open face of Aristotle's Metaphysics, while I dreamed that I found a baby that no one else could see. Once I realized this, I started wearing said baby on my head. You know, because I could.

But now I've got to get back to all the other things I was supposed to do today. Like laundry, and lecture notes, and other things beginning with 'l' (lesbianism! lying! learning Latvian!).

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Hypnogogia

Oh, I can't sleep. Or at least I can't sleep during normal sleeping hours. Just strange, sleepy person times. Last night I tossed and turned until the wee hours, only to sleep the (sunny and springlike) day away. And now I'm up again, restless, reading and listening to all the funny night sounds (some rowdy street noise, but mostly just the rustling of the cat as he searches for new nooks to nap in, and the stompy stompy stompy of the upstairs neighbor as he trundles out of bed to run some nocturnal errand).

Actually, for all my offness, I think I'm actually sleeping more than usual. I'll probably go to bed pretty soon, this in spite of the fact that i was hardly awake at all today (I crawled to bed at eight this morning and slept 'til eleven, then went back to bed and slept from two til sixish. And this was after a tossy-and-turny but nonetheless moderately sleep-filled night). Mending bones, I'm learning, is exhausting work. And I'm so out of it, even when I am awake. But between the meds and the mending, it's no wonder my brain's hardly stirring. You don't want to know how long this has taken me to write (and how many times I accidently typed 'sleep' in lieu of some other word).

Oh, I was going to write more, but my brain's shutting down now. Off to bed.

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