Cat Fight

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...
"Alan, Alan, Alan!"
"Mffft whaaa... what, what the fuck?"
"The cats are fighting right outside the bedroom window."
"Huh, cats... okay, cats."

When I was a very small boy, every afternoon my mom would lay me down in my crib for a nap. It was a very good idea. Not just for my mom so that she could get a little time for herself, but for me. It was good for me. I like my sleep time. It has served me well over the years, so I carried that afternoon nap practice on into my adulthood. Fortunately I have almost always had jobs that were flexible enough to allow it. About the only job that interfered with my afternoon nap was the can factory. I tried napping there once, but the resulting collision of empty aerosol cans with the end of the assembly line woke me up. After that I managed to always get jobs that had little supervision, and no way for the boss to track me. I spent many afternoons sleeping in my car, company van, or even at home when my job brought me close enough. Then I met Mark. Mark hates my naps. He is constantly waking me up. Over the last sixteen years I have not had one decent afternoon nap. Even when he was ill and in the hospital he would make a point of calling as soon as my eyelids drooped shut. So this afternoon it was a cat fight. There is really nothing I can do about a cat fight. By the time Mark wakes me up, and I get my bearings, the cats have moved on. Anyway, I have to find a way to get my nap time without Mark bothering me. I've tried to nicely tell him not to wake me up. I've screamed at him. I've locked myself in my office, but no matter, he finds a way to wake me. What I have recently been contemplating is using some Ambien sleeping pills. I think they would work real good crushed up in Mark's morning coffee.