After the grand event of kittening I finally found great comfort in my over-priced, no back relief experienced (yet) and hot as Hell heat capturing Temper-Pedic mattress. There were dreams and nightmares from all of my thoughts being jumbled together. When I woke up, there wasn't a freshness to my step but at least I could walk without stumbling any longer.
When I finally sleep, it's as though I've taken a bucketful of anxiety and added a pound of vaudeville and stuffed it all into a blender. When I'm lucky the anxiety has been beaten to death and I am only left with the ridiculous performances that dance behind my eyelids.
Thanks to handfuls of prescription medications (one to fix one problem but then that that one creates another, and the one to fix the secondary problem requires another to fix those as well) I awake frequently to visit the throne.
Roll over and toss legs over the side of the bed, toes seeking purchase onto my sandals. (yes I said sandals - slippers are too effing hot) Usually upon sitting up in bed a rush of gas erupts into an incredible belch that which would bring Olympic scoring, I stumble my way from the bed to the toilet all the while groaning and protesting the indignities of my life.
Son'a'bitch this or fuck that ...can't believe I'm awake and why can't I get some rest for a change.!!!..why am I peeing I didn't even have anything to drink before bed!!!...complaints come to my lips so easily as I am sitting there on the stool with my pajamas down around my ankles in a pool of formless cotton-poly blend.
Illumination coming from the night-light on the wall, my tired eyes feel scorched by it! I slam them shut only to open a sliver, enough to be able to guide myself back to the bed.
Do I fall asleep while sitting there, perhaps! I'm not sure but I'm aware that I have a visitor just as I've finished shaking the dew off my lily (wait I don't have a lily but I do have two lips BAHA HAHA get it, Tulips!?!) and about to pull up my pants. Someone, a nude-cat of course, has clambered in and taken refuge in this warm new cozy place.
Seriously there is NO privacy in a home with Sphynx cats. They are not aware of these antics, which are highly demanding and priveledged. They just figure that their company is always welcomed no matter what the occassion.
99% of the time I'd concur but when I'm in my sleeping haze and hurting because a Mack-Truck ran me over, I find little humor when someone pounces onto my shoulder or onto my back while hunkered over the shitter.
Opportunists really - I guess I can't blame them I've been called the same.
In this day and age I think that if you see a shining star and can reach it, GRAB IT with both hands!