[written last night]
3:30 am Realize it’s half an hour past my bedtime. Text Ken to that effect. Head into bedroom to drop off book to read and turn on bedside light; discover cat has pooped on upper part of bed (near but not on pillow). Poop is mostly dry, but attempts to clean off residue fail. Stupid hyper-sense of smell. Strip bed, head downstairs with icky sheets, intending to find clean sheets.
3:35 am Discover cat puke in dining room (hairball + extra, yay). Ken returns phone call. However, he forgot to charge his helmet during his last stop. He’s just getting back on the road. Dump old sheets on washer, obtain new sheets. Bash foot into coffee table in media room while heading in to give both cats scritchies. Lose connection with Ken.
3:45 am Ken texts to say helmet is dead. Clean cat puke off dining room floor, pondering the fact that the wood isn’t treated and technically shouldn’t be cleaned with a wet cleaner. However, spatters of cat puke successfully removed. Feel conflicted.
3:55 am Remake bed. Take evening medications. Discover phone is missing. Go back downstairs, retrace route, give cats scritchies again, find phone on arm of media room sofa.
4 am Plug phone in. Write blog post; decide to send after I wake up. Limp off to bathroom to brush teeth, etc., hoping for no more excitement except in the book I'm intending to read.
9 am (projected): Cat will start stomping on bed and miaowing in the hopes that I will wake up and feed him. If I fail to comply, he may repeat the previous morning’s attempt to wake me, which involved albeit very gentle claws raked down a sensitive portion of my anatomy that was exposed thanks to the morning being overly warm.
[written this morning]
9 am On the nose. Damn cat.