(no subject)

I had a nice boys' night out dinner with the fuzzy upstairs neighbor last night. Cassoulet at Le Central, yum. With the rainy weather, it was the first time I got to wear the trench coat and fedora with matching band. If it had been foggy rather than stormy, I would have felt all Bogey-like.

Name-dropping spot of the evening: Carmen Policy and his wife having dinner there. (He used to manage the 49ers.)

Why, this is my rut, nor am I out of it.

A pattern has developed in recent weeks:

1. I go to bed. Galen sometimes curls up around my legs.
2. An hour or two later, I am awakened by Galen thrashing around the bedroom. Sometimes tipping over things on the dresser, sometimes clawing at the window - but always enough to wake me and prevent me from getting back to sleep.
3. I throw him out of the bedroom and close the door.  The wife then has to entertain him until she comes to bed.

I'm not thrilled with this, but I am at a loss as to how to stop it. We've talked about getting Galen a buddy to stop him being bored, but our place is smaller than I'd like for two cats. Also, there's no room for another litterbox.