exhaustedThis always happens. I try and try to change the obvious signs of impending departure, packing in different rooms, hiding the suitcases, but let's face it: I went and got myself cats from two of the most intelligent breeds of domestic feline, and they know what it means when the cosmetic bags disappear from the bathroom and Mom starts coming around a lot. They put two and two together, come up with five, and devote themselves to making my life a living hell, because if I'm going to leave them, they're going to make me pay. Last night's method of making me pay involved waking me up every twenty minutes. Lilly does this by licking my eyelids. Alice does this by punching me in the face.
I love my cats.
At midnight, I was too tired to cope with any more feline interference, and got up, locking them out of the room. I went back to bed. At one, I was too tired to cope with any more feline interference, and got up, locking them out of the room. I went back to bed. At one-thirty, I was too tired to cope with any more feline interference, and got up, locking them out of the room. I went back to bed. At two...
...I realized that Alice is now long enough to turn the handle on my bedroom door, and that Lilly has understood handles for at least three years. They are conspiring against me to punish me for leaving them.
I am doomed.
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