As I walk into the kitchen, however, she comes trotting down the hall meowing in distress, like someone late to an appointment she slept through, and demanding that, despite her seeming neglect, I fulfill my obligations to her now, please?
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Just Don't Call Her Late for (Insisting on) Breakfast
That swimming to the surface feeling of waking from deep sleep, up from darkness to the bright claxon of the alarm. Normally I don't sleep straight through the morning, as there is usually a cat doing her passive-aggressive best (stomping with all her weight on my chest, curling up around my head and purring loudly into my ear, flexing her needling claws in what may or may not be genuine affection so that they puncture the thin skin on the inside of my arm, and oh, were you sleeping?) to awaken me in the small hours that I might feed her sooner rather than later.. Today, strangely, she is absent.