As does not waxing my legs for an obscenely long time because, hey, it's cold, who's going to see my legs anyway!?
Winter is for cuddling on the couch...
This morning Nic got up and snuck out and I'd had a pretty rough morning's sleep between getting a sore back (and various other muscles, thanks exercise), the kitten purring for cuddles, needing to pee, and the kitten scratching in her litter box for 15 minutes as she had a panic attack because she couldn't cover up the smell.
I'm a seriously light sleeper- these things wake me up, and then I have a horrible time getting back to sleep again.
So anyway, Nic got up, let Mallei out, then shut him back in the bedroom with me so I could sleep in a little while longer. Otherwise he gets sad and paces the hall back and forth because he's a momma's-boy and y'know, might be missing out on my love or something. So Nic probably would have gotten up at 6.45 or so. At 7am, pretty much on the dot... there comes a squeak outside my door. Like:
Just... go back to sleep. She'll give up eventually.
"MEO!! MEEEO! MEW MEW!!!! MEEE!?"
And then she starts throwing herself at the door.
Thud, scrabble, scratch.
"MEE MEE MEE!!!"
Best resting place, ever.
Nic eventually comes, knowing this will go on unless she gets in. I say to him that we shouldn't let her in because she's going to keep doing this for the rest of her life if she gets her way and we'll never be able to sleep in ever again.
After the door was opened, the toddles in and sits in the threshold, looking perplexed. From the kitchen she sounded like she had been in mortal pain. Like, if she didn't get in that room with me and Mal, the world was going to encapsulate itself into a vortex, and the last sounds we would hear would be
"Meeeeeeeeeeeee......" trailing off into the depths of space.
She has a habit of doing this, though. We're still learning when she's actually meowing for a reason, or when she's just having fun making noise (like a very young child, I told you!). 99% of the time, it's the latter. Often I'll be sitting in the couch, and from the bathroom I'll hear:
"Mee!" (I'm using "mee" because she never seems to follow-through with the noise. She forgets the end sound.)
And I'll get up and go look.
She's sitting on the bathroom counter.
Just sitting there. When I walk in, she stands up, happy that I've come to pay attention to her. Usually I walk out.
Or when I'm in the kitchen and she's on her scratch-pole, literally 5 feet from where I'm cooking.
I look over. She's just laying there on the top platform, tail swishing a little maybe, eyes big and expectant, watching me. Then she opens her mouth and no noise comes out. This is a meow she's done since we got her. Like opening her mouth is enough- why go to all the trouble of making noise, particularly if she's purring.
Mia & I. Remember that luxurious rug I wrote about, that makes her brain explode? She's on it. She spends many, many hours sleeping on this rug.
Over Easter, while we're going to Bright, we've asked my Mum to look after both her and Mallei. It'll be a bit of an interesting scenario actually, because in their house then will be Mum's 14 year old Aussie shepherd, who is deaf and somewhat blind, and who is also Mallei's Uncle... there'll be Mal, then there's Mum's 14 year old cat Fudge, who looks a fair bit like Mia, actually (tortoiseshell), who hasn't lived with another cat for probably 10 years... and then there'll be Mia, who is brave, but hasn't seen other cats since she was a kitten, but who may also just want to play with Fudge, all the time. I'm hoping that by having her very best-buddy there, our little kitten (she's 6 months old now!!! Still a kitten, right?) won't be so stressed out. She'll be there for 5 days, and Mum's using it as an experiment to see how Fudge goes with a kitten, to see if my brother can get one for himself.
So that ought to be fun. Hopefully they'll be ok.
She can interupt someone else's sleep for a week.
(Also: They're totally cuddling right now, Mal and Mia. She has paws around his neck, eyes closed. Occasionally she'll lick his face, or he hers... Then he looks over at me, asking if he's done a good job.)