I hate when Noah works the midnight shift, because I don’t sleep well at all. Not to mention the entire trajectory of the household is thrown off. Instead of gliding peacefully into slumber, we rocket wildly toward an insane, nightmarish circus.
The animals obviously have a strong bond with Noah, because they refuse to settle when he’s not home. Last night I closed the cats out of the room, which actually didn’t really help much, because they fight when they’re irritable. And me not letting them run rampant at all hours makes them irritable.
Somehow, though, I didn’t see it coming when at 3:30 in the morning I was jarred awake by the brash sounds of a feline royal rumble in the hall. Then Cody stood by the door begging me to let him out so he could employ his mediation skills, and I was all “go back to bed they don’t listen to you anyway.” So he cried for a little while, then comforted himself with a thorough nylabone chewing session. On the bed.
Amazingly, that was actually a better scenario than the previous night, when I was up four times between the hours of 1 and 6. Including the time I attempted to turn off the inexplicably screeching smoke alarm by stabbing at it with a wooden lint brush in a half-asleep tribal dance to the god of PLEASE MAKE THIS MADNESS STOP. It was very organic.
Come to think of it, I don’t know that I ever actually made contact with the thing; I just kind of jumped and flailed around while waving away the invisible smoke. With the lint brush. We’ll file that one away under It Made Sense at the Time.