I woke up this morning, opened one eye, and saw Isabella standing next to me, staring—clearly just about to wake me.
I closed my eye again, rolled over, and checked the time.
3:00 a.m.
Then it hit me.
Fuck. It’s Monday. I have to go to work today.
I went back to sleep, absolutely not ready to face the day.
Isabella tried again at 4:00 a.m. I ignored her. By 4:30, she was more persistent, so I constructed a pillow barrier between us and fell back asleep. That worked… briefly.
I woke again and noticed the living room light was on—a sure sign that it was after 5:00 a.m., which in Isabella’s mind means it’s time to escalate the campaign.
I checked the clock.
5:05 a.m.
Ugh.
At that point, I had no choice but to start my day.
2 comments:
If I were you, I would have kicked Isabella out at 3 a.m. Joe, you're too nice to that cat, it's bad for your health.
Had I kicked her and shut my bedroom door, she would have made so much noise, I would have not been able to go back to sleep until I let her back in.
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