If there’s no rest for the wicked, I must be evil, Evil, EVIL! 😈 If it isn’t one thing – it’s everything.
The wife normally goes to bed several hours before my dead-tired deadline. She has sleep apnea, a CPAP machine, and a full-face mask. Usually, it is whisper quiet, producing a soft, slight susurration of white noise that helps to quickly transport me to slumber-land. Then, there are nights like….
I enter the bedroom, dispossess the cat sleeping at her feet, call the two Scotty dogs into the bedroom and up on the bed, and close the door to keep the cat out, and the dogs from getting into trouble. I manage to wedge myself between the dogs, and finally doze off.
The wife moves in her sleep, breaking the seal on her facemask, which begins to do an imitation of an tenor sax.
I burrow back into the pillow, determined to fall back to sleep.
Whether because of the instrumental, or the cat in the hall, one of the dogs uses my leg as a starting block, and leaps to the floor and whines.
My bladder insists that we’re getting up.
I stumble into the bathroom. In the illumination of a small nightlight, I find a puddle of toilet paper on the floor. The evicted cat likes to play with the rolls. We have small plastic clips that prevent this, but the wife, in a semi-conscious state, apparently forgot to put it on.
I turn on the light to see, so that I can rewind it.
I’m now awake enough to realize I have twenty words that I want to add to a blog.
I step into the computer room and turn on the light.
As I’m typing, the cat marches back and forth in front of the monitor, leaps on my shoulder, and yells in my ear. I add a prompt to a different blog draft.
With all this going on, the dogs leak out of the bedroom, and insist that they need to go outside for another leak. I trudge downstairs, put them out, wait, and bring them in.
With the orchestra tuning up, there’s no sense going back upstairs. Maybe I can doze off on the couch. I toss a throw over me and get comfy…. And two dogs lick my face to find out why I’m not in bed.
A different cat who’s always looking for warmth, jumps up on me, and snuggles behind my knees. Warm and somnolent again, we both try to go to sleep.
The computer-room cat walks across my chest and yells in my ear, to explain that he was trying to tell me upstairs, that he wanted to be fed. Off the couch and to the cat food.
It’s now after 7:00 AM. Perhaps I could lie back in the recliner. Two dogs jump up and settle between my legs. Warm and drowsy, I can feel sleep approaching.
The cold cat is now at the top of the stairs, complaining. The dogs again use me as starting blocks to go find out why, rocking the recliner.
Soon, one dog returns, along with the cat, which cuddles into my crotch. My mind is now racing with a theme for a 100-word Flash Fiction.
8:05 AM The son arrives home from work. Two humans, two dogs, and three cats create a combination of a three-ring circus, and a four-alarm fire.
Always bad, my memory is worse when I’m tired. I had a great idea for the upcoming A 2021 Challenge, but have already forgotten it. By 9:00 AM I have most of this post composed, but I have to have the wife to a 1:00 PM appointment. We’ll be back up by eleven. If you see a zombie shuffling past, it’s not looking for brains. It’s just me, looking for mine, and hoping for my (early/extended) afternoon nap.