(no subject)
Oct. 5th, 2004 07:17 amUgh.
I love my cat, really I do.
I had to repeat that to myself quite a few times last night.
I got home and to bed around 10:15… that’s severely late when the alarm goes off at 4. I’m generally short on sleep Tuesdays even if I get uninterrupted rest. Which, thanks to the boy, I didn’t.
I don’t know if Galen was upset that I wasn’t home or what – but he spent much of the night thrashing around the hallway and bedroom, playing with things under the bed and getting into things that he knows he shouldn’t (like the blinds and small bookcase). Locking him out of the bedroom didn’t help – he just scratches at the door. I almost locked him in the bathroom; his litter box is there, and we wouldn’t hear him scratching. I’d be slightly afraid of what he’d do in there, but if this continues we’re going to find out…
At one point when I got up and chased him down with the spray bottle, I had to resist giving him the British nanny treatment. I don’t normally have that urge – thankfully - but I wanted to do whatever it took to quiet him down, just so I could get some sleep!
Maybe it’s time for a baby bobble-head of my own.
I almost called in sick this morning because I was (and am) so bleary. I decided not to, as my boss is out and I thought I had a big meeting. Turns out I don’t. Damn.
More coffee. Cup three and counting. Not yet really functional.
What I'm reading: Trudi Canavan, The High Lord - again. This one appears to be printed correctly.
I love my cat, really I do.
I had to repeat that to myself quite a few times last night.
I got home and to bed around 10:15… that’s severely late when the alarm goes off at 4. I’m generally short on sleep Tuesdays even if I get uninterrupted rest. Which, thanks to the boy, I didn’t.
I don’t know if Galen was upset that I wasn’t home or what – but he spent much of the night thrashing around the hallway and bedroom, playing with things under the bed and getting into things that he knows he shouldn’t (like the blinds and small bookcase). Locking him out of the bedroom didn’t help – he just scratches at the door. I almost locked him in the bathroom; his litter box is there, and we wouldn’t hear him scratching. I’d be slightly afraid of what he’d do in there, but if this continues we’re going to find out…
At one point when I got up and chased him down with the spray bottle, I had to resist giving him the British nanny treatment. I don’t normally have that urge – thankfully - but I wanted to do whatever it took to quiet him down, just so I could get some sleep!
Maybe it’s time for a baby bobble-head of my own.
I almost called in sick this morning because I was (and am) so bleary. I decided not to, as my boss is out and I thought I had a big meeting. Turns out I don’t. Damn.
More coffee. Cup three and counting. Not yet really functional.
What I'm reading: Trudi Canavan, The High Lord - again. This one appears to be printed correctly.