There's a Nasty Place in My Heart

Well, crap. I dreamed the sound of a step in the foyer. Since it wasn't my husband, I'm pretty creeped out. I dreamed someone was walking around downstairs and he said he didn't go downstairs. People repeat themselves when they get creeped out. I'm trying to make myself go back downstairs and check out all the rooms and closets just to make sure.

It was probably the cat.

The damned cat.

I'm tired this morning, filthy tired, because the cat kept trying to wake me up. He could see the bottom of his bowl sometime in the night. According to him, the damned thing is empty and that justifies walking on my head while I'm sleeping even though he just finished eating a large cat meal and wouldn't get hungry for three or four hours.

Twice or three times, the damned cat walked across my body last night. There are people who hate cats. I see why. I don't hate cats, I just have a nasty place in my heart right now for one cat in particular. I pushed him off the bed in the night. I'm sure I did.

A nasty place. I don't want to look at him right now.

Not to mention that there was quite a bit of food still in the bowl since it was just the center that reflected the bottom. There was a neat little ring of food around the outside edges that would qualify as two or three meals. And for that he needed to wake me up?

A nasty place.

Thank you for listening, jules