I’m convinced that
- the world is an insane asylum,
- cats are the scientists observing our behavior, and
- dogs are the therapists who decide if you’ll have the chance to move to another planet in your next life.
Considering it’s nearly midnight, and my brain is a fuzzed out mess, I’d probably believe that the road to hell is paved with cherry chocolate chip ice cream.
Ergo, why I’m experiencing something I call….
That’s when you’re tired but can’t get to sleep. If you’re asleep and then wake up at 3:00am, then it’s officially insomnia.
Yes, I knew it was wrong, but the force is strong in that particular flavor and the goodness of cherry chocolate chip can’t be denied by my mouth.
My stomach, however, has another opinion and it’s presently screaming at me, “Are you insane!”
Maybe the road to hell is paved with cats?
Balls of cat hair flow over a desk that’s not even a week old. They’re like mini tumbleweeds in the desert winds that think my arms are a great place to land.
I had to tape cardboard over the edges of my beautiful new desk to prevent the 20 pound coon cat from using it to sharpen his claws.
The two behaviorists (aka cats) assigned to my case have retired for the evening, their little legs twitching in their sleep.
Now it’s time to visit my therapists, if I can find a place to wiggle between them in my bed.
Perhaps in my next life, I can be a reptilian rock star from Zeta Reticuli.
Compared to insomnia, that sounds like fun.