Divisions and Precisions

Wake-up Call, or Why Lisa Shouldn't Be Awake at 4am

My cats love me. They love me so much, in fact, that they can't bear to be separated from my conscious and friendly company. Perhaps this is why after about four hours of watching me succumb to the sweet unconsciousness of sleep, they feel it is necessary to wake me up. Because clearly, if I stay asleep any longer I will miss some of their charming and adorable antics. So each morning I am awakened to the sounds of purring in stereo. Pooka nudges at my limp, drowsy hand in a futile attempt to place it on her head, while Rumpus either chews on my toes or paces endlessly on my stomach.

Of course, their deep and abiding affection for me is only one possible reason why they feel the need to wake me up at 4am. As I was trying to go back to sleep this morning (an endeavor I abandoned shortly before 6am), I came up with several possible alternate theories:

--"Are you awake yet? Are you awake yet? Are you awake yet?"
--"Psst. We're planning to take over the world, but we need your opposable thumbs to work the doorknobs."
--"I'm traumatized by tiny glimpses of the bottom of my food dish through all the food piled in it. Can you fill it up some more?"
--"Everybody else is already up, you lazy thing."
--"You're snoring again. Wake up."

So. Very. Tired.