I'm very tired today, and it's my own fault. Esther coughed last night around 7:00, and for some foolish absentminded reason, I gave her a half of a cyproheptadine, which is the medicine that makes her hyper and unreasonable. So all night long she was walking around the bed, and then she started an intensive campaign (at around 4:00) of walking on my pillow (and my hair). I started pushing her off the bed when she'd get on my pillow, but she kept coming back (see also: unreasonable). After over an hour of that shit, when she next jumped onto the bed, directly on my pillow, I gripped her little kitty face and said something like, "Bitch, I know it's not your fault, but you need to get the fuck off my pillow right now, goddammit." [just so you know, I'm prone to excessive profanity when my sleep is disturbed. I have cussed out people who did not deserve it, for either waking me up rudely or for attempting to play practical jokes on me during my sleep. This is not an attractive trait.]. I then pushed her towards the foot of the bed, and she must've gotten a clue from my tone, because she didn't come back again until just before the alarm went off. I feel a residual of guilt for being so impatient with her, because it was all my fault she was hopped up on goofballs and she's a cat so she doesn't understand that I don't get to take a million naps a day, like she and Lucy do. She doesn't understand that my job is horrendously busy right now (or, what a job is and why I would have one) and that any loss of sleep is going to put my stress-o-meter up a few more ticks. She doesn't even know what stress is, unless the vacuum cleaner is running, and even then she couldn't relate it to anyone but herself. So I'm not mad at her, and I'm feeling guilty for being impatient, but I'm also feeling pushed to the brink of mental health today, like I'm barely clinging to it, and I hope no one decides to scream at me today (on the phone) because that would shove me straight off the brink, and I don't know what would happen then. Probably some crying, and nobody wants that to happen.
Do you ever just feel overly wounded? Like life has hurt you far more than you rationally know it has? That's how I'm feeling today, and I don't think it needs to be said, but I'm Such a drag right now. So many people have it so much worse than I do, and I KNOW that, but I'm not Feeling that right now. So I'm going to stop writing and go back to my files and emails and phone calls, and maybe tomorrow I'll have slept more and will have a better grasp on both sanity and reality.
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