(no subject)

Brr, it's chilly this morning.

Had a fairly broken night's sleep, thanks to that Izzy cat. First of all she arrived just as I was going to bed, and I had to let her in - who could resist a cat balanced with back legs on the dustbin lid, and front paws and face pressed against the glass of the window in the back door? So she came in, had a bite to eat, refused to go upstairs to the chap who actually owns her. I gave up and went to bed, leaving her to it. Half an hour later, she appeared in the bedroom making tracks for the window. I hastily scooped her up and took her to the kitchen window to make her exit. Far more appropriate, size-wise.

So then at about 3am I was woken by the cat trying to get in through the bedroom window and failing miserably, because it isn't opened wide enough (for that very reason), and wailing at me pathetically. I tried to ignore her and go back to sleep, not wanting to be held hostage at that hour every night, but she didn't give in. Eventually got up and staggered to the kitchen to let her in. Turned out it was pouring with rain, which was why she wanted to come in. Again, I lectured her on not making a mess and went back to bed, only to have to get up yet again half an hour later to let her go upstairs to the chap who owns her yet has singularly failed to provide her with any decent access to the building.

For the rest of the night, I had weird, Izzy-centred dreams. I dreamed that after telling her not to make a mess, I got up to find her surrounded by toys, all carefully laid out - strangely enough, since I don't have toys in my flat. In my dream, I was puzzled about how she'd managed it. Then, still in my dream, I woke up to find that my landlord had let himself in and was putting the toys away again now that the cat had gone. We had a conversation about it in which I didn't get angry about him letting himself in like that, or wonder how he'd managed it since the door is kept bolted at night. Then he left, and I noticed a really bad drip from my kitchen ceiling. I put a saucepan under it, and it filled to overflowing within seconds, so Dream-Me resolved to talk to the landlord about it in the morning and went back to bed. Whereupon Real-Me actually did wake up at last.

(no subject)

Brr, it's chilly this morning.

Had a fairly broken night's sleep, thanks to that Izzy cat. First of all she arrived just as I was going to bed, and I had to let her in - who could resist a cat balanced with back legs on the dustbin lid, and front paws and face pressed against the glass of the window in the back door? So she came in, had a bite to eat, refused to go upstairs to the chap who actually owns her. I gave up and went to bed, leaving her to it. Half an hour later, she appeared in the bedroom making tracks for the window. I hastily scooped her up and took her to the kitchen window to make her exit. Far more appropriate, size-wise.

So then at about 3am I was woken by the cat trying to get in through the bedroom window and failing miserably, because it isn't opened wide enough (for that very reason), and wailing at me pathetically. I tried to ignore her and go back to sleep, not wanting to be held hostage at that hour every night, but she didn't give in. Eventually got up and staggered to the kitchen to let her in. Turned out it was pouring with rain, which was why she wanted to come in. Again, I lectured her on not making a mess and went back to bed, only to have to get up yet again half an hour later to let her go upstairs to the chap who owns her yet has singularly failed to provide her with any decent access to the building.

For the rest of the night, I had weird, Izzy-centred dreams. I dreamed that after telling her not to make a mess, I got up to find her surrounded by toys, all carefully laid out - strangely enough, since I don't have toys in my flat. In my dream, I was puzzled about how she'd managed it. Then, still in my dream, I woke up to find that my landlord had let himself in and was putting the toys away again now that the cat had gone. We had a conversation about it in which I didn't get angry about him letting himself in like that, or wonder how he'd managed it since the door is kept bolted at night. Then he left, and I noticed a really bad drip from my kitchen ceiling. I put a saucepan under it, and it filled to overflowing within seconds, so Dream-Me resolved to talk to the landlord about it in the morning and went back to bed. Whereupon Real-Me actually did wake up at last.