So, for those who don’t know, Thomas works in a kitchen. This means that more often than not, our schedules don’t align perfectly for normal couple things like dinner together, relaxing time, or bedtime. Currently, he’s working the transition shifts, so he gets there in the early afternoon and will stay until anywhere between 11pm and 1am.
I get hugely sketched out by people coming into the house after I’m in bed, and it used to be near impossible for me to fall asleep if I knew that someone would need to come in after I’d already gone to bed. But, there are two options for me: stay awake until Thomas gets home (then get up to start my day at 6am) or just get over it/get used to it. I’ve tried the former, and now I’m working with the latter.
And it’s actually not as bad as I thought. Without someone there to snore or move around, I actually fall asleep quicker, and it’s easier for me to stay asleep after he comes to bed (after gently waking me up to let me know that he’s home).
Then we get to last night. I went to bed around 11:30pm (after drinking some delicious wine with my neighbour-friends for a few hours), and Thomas arrived home around 12:45 (I think. I’m a little fuzzy on the times). He’s usually too amped up to go to sleep right after he gets home, so he stayed up on the computer until he’s tired enough to go to bed.
I remember waking up again at 2:30 in the morning, and the bedside lamp was turned on. This is odd, because Thomas is practically nocturnal, so he never turns lights on to find his way into bed; his body has turned him into some kind of human-cat hybrid, and he’s able to see in the dark. Then I noticed that he was furiously scrubbing the floor. Which is odd in general, and very strange at 2:30 in the morning.
I groggily asked him what the hell he was doing, and he replied with “the cat ate a mouse and then yakked it up onto the carpet. I’m cleaning it up.”
Wait WHAT?! I was suddenly instantly awake, and the first thing I could think to ask was “what the fuck, we have mice? I’ve seen no evidence of mice, where the hell did he find this thing!?” and not “hey, is the cat okay?” (He is, by the way.)
Thomas told me to chill out and go back to sleep, but wtfomgbqq, how do you do that after you told me there was a ravaged mouse carcass on the carpet in my bedroom!? Thomas is convinced that we don’t have mice in our unit, that it must have sneaked in sometime when we were coming and going from the house. He then also told me that he found the mouse remains by stepping in the puke. YUM. I had visions of the hantavirus being contracted by Thomas through his foot, then infecting me by sleeping in the same bed. Why are mice so adorable and so DISEASE-RIDDEN?
It took me a little while to fall asleep after that, but I did eventually, dreams of diseases dancing through my head. My alarm then went off at 6:00am (ungodly time of day, in my opinion), and I was half aware that the murderous feline (Lu) was in our bedroom and on our bed. I was reluctant to let his hanta-mouth come onto the bed so close to us, and then noticed that he seemed to be intently digging at something in the covers…so I was insta-awake again, figuring that he brought another “gift”, and this time straight to the source. I waited and watched for the area he was digging in, and then he batted something off the bed and onto the floor. I shook Thomas awake and said “ohgodohgodohgod, I think he has another mouse, please look and tell me if there are tiny mouse bits all over the floor at the foot of our bed!”
It’s a good thing he loves me
Thomas got up and checked the mouse murder scene, and came up with a tiny bit of white squishy stuff. Upon closer inspection, it’s some of that sticky-tac crap that you use to hang posters and papers on your wall. The other half was in our bed.
Stupid cat.
