What a Wake Up Call
About an hour before my alarm went off this morning, I was nestled all snug in my bed in that place where you are asleep but you are also awake and you're still dreaming, still processing things but you are lucid and this meta-processing begins to take place. Your conscious mind starts to make sense of what your unconscious mind is saying. And, you think, did I really get that email? Is this the Olympics? Why is that guy here?
One of those questions I asked myself was: Where is that drilling sound coming from?
I woke myself all the way up and then I looked at my feet. I saw two kittens, curled up next to each other, happily purring away. I put my head back down on the pillow, knowing it was too early to actually be awake, trying to go back to the meta-processing stage of dreaming. I felt the distinct sensation of something slowly crawling up along my back. Assuming it was Cooper, I reached out to scratch his little head. I was wrong, it was Kingsley. And, he was not up for a head-scratch. He was investigating.
We are all up now, some of us have eaten and some of us are wrestling on the floor. The rest of us are thinking about coffee and toast and are not looking forward to the essay-writing that must now take place.
At least the wake up call was pleasant.
