Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Cat and the Sleeping Pills

11:24 pm.
Roxz's first day of class tomorrow, and I have decided to make her breakfast.
I am the egg gawd. If you can do it with an egg, I can do it better. If it's been done with an egg, show me how and I will reproduce it...and shortly be able to do it better.
So, in order to assure that said breakfast is made on time, I took an ambien. The same sleeping pills I weaned myself off of a week ago.
I took it at 9:45.
It kicked in at 10:00
I am now downstairs at 11:24.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to wake me up when I am drugged? Much less drugged with a whiskey chaser? It is NOT simple, easy or common. not until the 4-5 hour mark has passed, and the filthy sleeping pills suddenly decide they no longer wish to work. At that point I return to normal Mikey, who's world is loud and disturbing, and non-conducive to sleep.

The cat has figured out the formula for this. She knows, by my rapidly degrading performance downstairs prior to rushing upstairs, that I have taken something. She behaves. She even nuzzles.
She knows she shall have fun.
She starts making noise. To date, I have yet to identify these specific 'wreck his night's sleep' noises. these are different than her 'oo, shiney....must break' noises. Very different from the 'it's moving, I must destroy half the house to kill it' noises. Or the 'I can climb ANYTHING no matter how un-tenable my balance shall be' noises.
No, all those have been identified with years of my life lost to excessive adrenal use.
No, these are new noises...noises that fit nothing. To the non-cat owner, they sound like stomping of a peg-leg on hard wood...or the thumping of a body being drug up the stairs. Occasionally, a hand slipping as it lowers an inner window to the floor and drops it those last few inches.
A collection of sounds that, to the uninitiated , would be perfect for a suspense/thriller/horror movie.
To a cat owner, they are normal noises that an owner only becomes SLIGHTLY concious for...long enough to identify it, and plan revenge on the feline in the form of a bath the next day while drifting back to blessed sleep.
To a person on sleeping pills, it IS every noise from EVERY horror film they watched as a young teen. Every film that ever gave them the heebie-jeebies is coming to life. And it's slow. It digs into your unconscious mind and prompts nightmares of home invasion, body snatchers and kidney thieves.
You finally awake, enough, to register that no one is actually in your room. You stagger up, trying to desperately be quiet...body betraying you as though you'd been on an all night binger..(doesn't help the steady susurration of a rainstorm making your hearing fuzzy and questionable...was that a footstep downstairs?)
In your addled mind, you grab the first thing that comes to hand...coulda been a gun...coulda been your wife...ends up being your long lost uncles hockey stick.
You stumble downstairs, a downstairs that is now eerily quiet. You are flipping lightswitches as you go...you've moved into an older house, with older flourescent fixtures...they flicker on, coming to life slowly and hesitantly, like the lights at a murder scene or in a mad scientists lab.
The bring stark and unwelcome light to a room not disturbed...the next one, it'll be a mess...they couldn't have made noise and not done SOMETHING.

You get the next one, and the next one...each as willies-causing as the next...
then you see her.
In the last room is the Cat. Pulling the Yoga routine licking her unmentionables in your general direction. Looking up with a 'why the hell are you disturbing my bath' kinda look. At her feet, some trinket. A thing of little value (else it would have broken, identifying the noise instantly and bringing wrath down upon the cat's head, not fear throughout the house)...something innocuous, but loud.

You pull your weapon, death in your drug addled mind, and realize that the Sig O would make you a Sig Zero if you committed this act of retribution....so you whimper, stagger back upstairs, and hope that for revenges' sake...you can remember this in the morning.

One of these days, I will actually grab the gun by mistake...and the cat's gonna get hers....one-na these days!

(this is not an after-action review...I am typing this now....and take my word for it, with the typos and slow typing and re-reading...this has taking FAR too long for any sane/sober man...the cat shall suffer, oh yes she shall!)

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