It's a Cat's Life

Two things I know I've already mentioned, multiple times (but here they are again, in case you're new here or if you enjoy watching as I repeat myself):

1. I work from home.

2. I have a cat.

By "work from home" of course, I mean "slave away in front of a computer, on my phone, for at least 9 hours a day, but usually it's more like 11 and sometimes I work on the weekend too and don't you wish you had my life, lalalalalala". I mean, really. I know y'all think I spend my days on the couch, watching whatever's on now that Oprah is off the air and eating bon bons, but no. No no no. I semi-competently run my little corner of the world with the wisdom and relative crankiness of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, if he was a thirty something woman who is sort of obsessed with 30 Seconds to Mars and cleaning and who rarely left the house.

(If you don't know who Gibbs is, then you need to watch some NCIS. RIGHT NOW. Because, seriously.)

Because I work from home, my addle-brained cat has become a little bit possessive. As in, she doesn't leave my side. While I work, she sleeps next to my desk. Like this:

Cute, right?

Except for the fact that all of that cute hides PURE, UNADULTERATED FELINE EVIL.

"But I don't see it," you're probably thinking. "I mean, look at the sweetly sleeping kitty! She's all fuzzy and awesome."

(That's how cats steal your soul, by the way. With the fuzzy and awesome and "awwwwww". Don't say you haven't been warned.)

Yes, she is sleeping sweetly. That's actually what she does ALL day. (Except for when she follows me to the bathroom or the kitchen, because she's a stalker.)

And at night, she is THE DEVIL. Because, you see, I have chronic insomnia, so I am frequently awake at night to be court jester to Her Majesty the Cat and amuse her with patting and brushing and playing. Fun for all, especially at 2 AM.

Lately, though, I have been able to sleep. Which is awesome. Or, which WOULD be awesome if the grey and white spawn of Satan didn't think that nighttime is playtime, and as such deems it absolutely urgent to wake me up for her entertainment by doing any and all of the following:

meowing
purring
walking on my face
eating my hair
attacking my feet ("I don't know what those lumps under the covers are, but I must protect my human from them! AT ALL COSTS! DIE TOES DIEEEEE!")
standing on my chest
leaping in and out of the blinds so that they rattle like the bones of the dead
licking my ears (this might not sound tormenting, but the heebie-jeebies it induces? HORRIFYING)

Once I'm awake? She's all "I want to snuggle! Pat me! Play with me! Entertain me, human!"

And then -- then, when I have to drag myself to my desk at 6 am? She jumps onto the pillow and goes to sleep. Sometimes she makes wistful little noises. I'm pretty sure that she's dreaming joyfully of her nocturnal antics with her devoted human plaything.

Somebody here has it really good. Sadly, it's not me.