I am not totally convinced this is "blog worthy", but it has never stopped me before, and anyway my long suffering husband is insistent that I put it out there, I think perhaps he is looking worldwide for sympathy - god knows, he doesn't get any at home.
Friday night, I stumble to bed at 2:00 AM. There is a reason for this - Rob has a cold and snores like a thing possessed. He is usually up early on the weekends (the only quiet time he gets), so I figure if I go to bed at 2:00 A.M. and he is up about 6:00 A.M. I have reduced the time he is breathing germs on me to four short hours, and I may be lucky enough not to get sick.
Let me tell you, it was a hellish night. I have the mouth breather beside me, who still has the audacity to try and plug my nose, but I keep swatting him away like the gnat he is, because I am not able to sleep. The reason for this is the damn cat. She has gone on a vomiting rampage. All night long I hear that awful honking sound, in fact I don't think there is any word to truly describe it. I could hear her moving through the house, getting ever closer. I was in a bit of a dilemma, had Rob heard this commotion ? If so, why wasn't he getting up and doing something about it. On the other hand, if he was still asleep and I woke him up then it would be obvious I had heard it and not done anything. What to do ? What to do ? In the end I did nothing. Safe in the thought that Rob would eventually be the first one up and end up having to deal with it anyway.
Turns out he was and he did. according to him cleaning up nine piles of vom. Too bad he missed the tenth pile right beside my side of the bed that I promptly stepped in when I got up. Fucking cat !!
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