The cats REALLY had it out for me last night. I don’t know that they have ever ever kept me up, individually, as they did last night. Cooder was alternately purrful and affectionate or relentlessly scratching for Greenies. And I think Emmylou brought a mouse to bed or something. She kept scratching and jumping around. I did get up and shake out the sheets, but it got away I guess. This might not sound so terrible, but, given how hard it is for me to sleep anyway, it’s a wonder the cats didn’t go flying out the window.
Yeah, so finally I get to sleep and the door bursts open, the food is knocked over, and Albert is joining in the Household Pet Sleep Interruption Derby. At that point, I just got up.
Well, that was Saturday and now it is already Tuesday afternoon (no need to start singing any ancient Moody Blues songs here). The pets and actual dementors conspired to keep me from sleeping the next two nights as well. I thwarted them ... well, Cooder did wake me when she kacked on my pillow last night ... by taking some sleeping medication. I took too much though and woke up quite late, but at least I am rested.
Which is a good thing because I was far along the rotation/spiral of a very serious depression again. I resisted the gravity of sadmadnessmadsadness only with the thought that some sleep might offer some respite and perspective. I am in the shallow end now, not in the bottomless pool. I almost wrote a post from there on the train last night, but I decided to let it sit for the moment.
And I am not going to reiterate or explicate that place now. I woke up with both cats cuddling and purring. I made it to the Mahopac library and found a table with a view of the lake ... not perfect but I can see the water. So, before the sun goes down, I want to see if I can make some progress on my life instead of dwelling on my unhappiness and frustrations. (I'm sure I will detail that again at some later point.)
On Sunday night, B1 and I went to the City Winery (thanks for SC!) for a benefit show, which was fun. On the way back up to Louise's, not so very late, I had a subway car all to myself ... which usually does not happen unless the A.C. is broken or something terrible happened in the car. Could this emptiness have triggered my angst? (Prolly not.) In French, empty is vide. Vide. (Veed.) Now that's an open, flat wide open word.
And whoever you are that posted that they would have sat next to me, thanks!