This never used to happen, but lately, it’s getting to be an almost regular occurrence. I awakened around 4 this morning, and could not go back to sleep. A full bladder may have been the culprit, but I suspect the real cause was a distubing dream in which I was a caregiver to an old lady and her 101 (not Dalmatian) cats. Fears of becoming my mother, much?
Anyway, any normal person would have used the litterbox, shaken off the dream, and re-commenced slumbering, but that would be a normal person. Not the Sassy Kitten, here. I’ve got about a billion things on my mind lately, so as soon as I awoke, all one billion of them slammed back into my awareness like an inconvenient tsunami on Boxing Day. And stupid me, I spent the next hour in bed, thinking about them, until I gave it up and rose to meet the day at 5 AM.
There are worse ways to go–I tend to roll out of bed 30 minutes before I need to be at work, and this barely gives me enough time to bathe, let alone prepare my responsible, professional (fraudulent) self. So having three and a half hours to get ready is an unexpected luxury–it gives me time to make my oatmeal. Clean. Write some emails. Blog about pointless minutiae. Spend time on the exercise bike. Fold laundry. Even lay out my work clothes. Not bad for a Monday morning!
But lord, I will be hating life by 4 PM today.
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