SLEEPLESS

Is there a difference between being an insomniac and being a night owl?

Definitely. One is torture and the other is joyous. I speak from a lifetime of experience. I go both ways (no sexual implications intended).

I've been nocturnally inclined for as long as I can remember. I always feel most alive between the hours of midnight and dawn. 

So where is this blog post going? Nowhere. I merely thought this was a good opening.

My present sleep "schedule" is simple:
I go to bed around dawn, then get up in about three or four hours to start my day.

That's undoubtedly why I feel comatose all day......and usually look like I died six weeks ago. But that's beside the point.

Unfortunately, the cats get up at dawn and eagerly (not to mention impatiently) wait for me to get out of bed.

Scruffy periodically climbs onto my chest and stares (two inches away from my face), just to make sure I'm still breathing.

 

Bosco is more aggressive. He eagerly (and frequently) pounces on the bed (and sometimes on me) to deliberately get me up.

So why don't you close the bedroom door and keep the cats out, Jon?

Because Bosco stays by the door and scratches the hell out of it when it's closed. I'd rather have a pouncing cat than a scratching cat. Maybe.


But, the cats are the least of my problems. 

Birds and squirrels clamor over the (metal) roof at dawn, making loud noises that jar me awake.

The birds are trying to build nests.
The squirrels are......
........who the hell knows....
looking for acorns??? 

So early this morning I had been asleep for about eight blessed minutes when the phone rings.

I stumble out of bed and crawl into the kitchen (that's where the landline phone is).

"Hello?"

Nobody responds. All I hear is lots of static. The last time I experienced that much static, it was coming from my hair on an extremely dry summer day in San Angelo, Texas.

Ponder that for awhile. It might eventually make some sense. 

Anyway, I finally hear a very weird voice with an extremely thick accent (East Indian, maybe?), informing me that I won a prize.

"Did you get the letter about the prize?" they ask. (I can't discern if this person is a he or a she) 

"Letter?? I don't give a damn about a letter. And to hell with the prize. Just send cash."

I hang up abruptly. 

There's no satisfactory end to this story - and no plausible reason for writing it. I just wanted to share my morning with you.  

I won't mention the never-ending back pain that I have.

Or the fact that a recent storm prompted the weeds to grow about five feet overnight.

Or that three cats can't seem to catch one mouse.

 Recent Rain...

...and hail...

By the way, my cat Kitzee (also known as Scratch) would rather sleep in the morning than waste her time trying to wake me up.