The great catfight of 2008 has broken out again. The short armistice brought on by the new apartment and the new meds has been broken by Micki and Lucy. Like clockwork, they fight at 3AM every morning. I wake up, scoop up Micki, put her in the bedroom and lock the door, trying to enjoy the precious few hours remaining of my sleep. Meanwhile, Lucy gets to use the litter box without fear of bodily peril.
Then somewhere around 5AM, Micki wakes up by attempting to knock my alarm clock and my glasses off the nightstand so I’ll get up and feed her. That invovles a lot of me saying, “Micki, NO!” while sleepily throwing her on the ground. Last night I had the bright idea to move the alarm clock and glasses from the nightstand to the bookcase on the other side of the bed to put an end to the ritual.
I slept soundly from the 3AM fight until the 5:30 wake up call from the cat. As I fumbled to find the clock to see what ridiculously early time I was being awoken, I dropped the alarm clock on the ground, finally accomplishing the task that Micki had been working on for days:
forever stuck at 6:50
