I had a terrible sleep last night.

It’s not usually difficult to sleep next to my boyfriend, but we’ve both been sick and it frankly sounds like he’s choking on every other snore. I could also hear my brother snoring through the bedroom wall (the disadvantage of an otherwise excellent room re-arranging experiment).

I slept in bursts of a few hours at a time. I’m choosing to chalk this up to alcohol consumption as well as our respective chest infections. And that was okay. Until just after 6am where my cat, Keira, took it upon herself to take up the role of my (non-existent) alarm.

She squeaked in my face and in my ear. For the entire fifteen minutes I tried to ignore her. My boyfriend, thinking to save me, tried to shove her off the bed. Only to instead smack me in the head.

Monday was not off to a good start.

After conceding defeat a short time later, I let our other cat outside (he was very agreeable) and tried to let Keira out too. I thought her insistence on leaving my bedroom had to do with a full bladder. But I was wrong. After physically putting her outside, she bolted back inside where I gave up on her and went back to bed.

Only to then feel guilty as she might wake my sleeping Mum up. So I got up again and found her (surprise!) sitting outside of Mum’s bedroom door. I attempted to pick her up, only to narrowly avoid being savaged by her sharp talons (or claws. Talons is much more dramatic though).

I gave up.

And went back to bed. Fuck her. Let her wake everyone up.

Then she came back to bed. Agreeably and quietly.

Bitch.

 

 

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