Well looky here.
It’s 3:45 AM Sunday morning and I’m wide awake. Blame some of it on the darn cat, who is now sleeping peacefully on the back of the loveseat about two feet from me. He’s a crumudgeon, however you spell it. Eleven, no, twelve years old. My kids named him Simba as in ‘The Lion King’. He’s more of a lion buddha, though. Fat and darned proud of it. He’s had surgery on his ears and they’re sort of wrinkled now. And he smirks. A lot. He’s smirking at me now, matter of fact. He likes to hide in our bedroom and then jump onto the bed after we settle in for the night, which means that he wakes me up. He also likes to sleep on my pillow when I’m using it. No manners at all, this cat.
So he does his thing around midnight, jumps onto the bed and starts wandering around looking for somewhere to get comfortable. He tries my pillow, hubby’s pillow, winds up between us. I’m already having trouble getting to sleep, and now there’s 20 pounds of cat trying to squeeze between my head and the wall, between hubby and me, wherever. Around 2:00 I hit my limit and pushed him off the bed. He proceeded to hack something up on the floor next to me. It was on purpose, too. He woke up hubby, we chased him out of the bedroom, hubby went right back to sleep. Not me.
I squirmed. I tried to think sleepy thoughts. Nothing.
Right after New Year’s I stayed up for 30-some hours. Couldn’t sleep at all. It’s probably hormones. I’m starting to understand the jokes about being post-menopausal and going without sleep for 3 year stretches. Only it’s not funny. It’s annoying. Sort of like the cat, who is now somewhere behind me huffing and puffing, either getting ready to demand that I let him out, or trying to settle his girth on the dog pillow. Nope, scratch that…he’s tippy-tippy-ing around looking for somewhere else to land. I may have to encourage him to go outside for a while, just so I can drink some tea in peace and at least try to settle down mentally for a few minutes. Yep, he’s going out. Now.
Where was I? Oh yeah, trying to calm down. I’m playing the piano this morning. It’s no big deal, a Schubert thing I learned in high school about 30 years ago. It’s nice to have things in the repertoire to fall back on when I have to play on short notice, and occasionally without sleep.
Maybe the opportunity will arise to play ‘Dizzy Fingers’ or ‘Kitten on the Keys’…..but not at church.