Cuddling

I really ought to go to bed. But I just don't feel like it. I am cat-sitting my sister's two very cuddly cats. The small one has situated himself in a ball-like shape in my lap, and the other one is sleeping fast just next to me. They are like two small radiators, or like two small lap tops, keeping me very warm. I am sure they see me in the same way, that I am their big radiator. That is probably the only reason they are sleeping that close to me, to nick some of my heat. The bastards. Cute bastards! And the matter of fact is that they steal very little, rather just conserve the energy output from my body. In a fairly acceptable way, I must say.

I don't want to lie on my bed. All alone. Well, I guess the cats will join me instantly, but still. I am back in my own apartment. I haven't been here alone for almost two months now ('cause I am subletting it to my sister until thursday). I have spent the afternoon cleaning to make myself feel like "home" again. Six hours it took me, hoovering, scrubbing the floors, laundry, and airing dusty fabrics. Six bloody hours. I spent almost one hour just hoovering, one hour! The sofa, the floors, the carpet. The cats were very unenthused by this move of mine. They seem to have very little sympathy for hoovering, especially for the loud noise and large nozzle moving about. I did not see them for most of the time, eventhough my apartment is no more than 50 square meters, 1.5 rooms. I have no idea about where they hid, 'cause I didn't see them. They must have moved around while I was cleaning, behind my back, in a fairly rapid way I imagine. Poor cats. But now the place is spotless. Like a blank canvas, ready for them to make a mess on again, with hairs, sand from the litter box, shredded toys, and shredded things they have chosen to call their toys (like my plants, pieces of paper, mittens, etc.). They are two messy cats. Cute, but messy.

Whenever I try to eat, they are all over the place. Especially the small one. He is like a combination of an annoying summer fly, and a wasp that just realised whatever I am eating is a huge piece of sugar. He is really IN your face, IN your mouth, ON your plate/lap/arms/hands trying to catch something to eat (he has plenty of food in his bowl, but apparently that is just too easy, or not good enough for him). Well, I can't judge him too hard though, I wouldn't want to eat his cat food either...

Aaahouuushsblah! I don't waaaaanna go to bed. Sometimes I hate falling asleep. It gets me really worked up and nervous. Don't ask me why, but I have found several others in my depression group with the same experience. Maybe it is a stupid remnant from my once active depression, or maybe it is just a common human "thing". Who knows? And right now, how would that knowledge help me anyway? Believe me, I am really tired, so I guess there isn't much else for me to do though... Un-fucking-fortunantely.