Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Cooked in my Sleep
Didn't sleep well last night - the cats are killing me. Pinning me down on both sides so I can't move and turning the bed into a Mongolian BBQ.
I'm convinced that as they sleep their body temperature rises and they can direct that heat wherever they want. They *could* send it into the room and take the chill out of the air, but NO - it's all directed to me.
Last night I woke up in an uncomfortable, sweaty configuration to find the little one smack up against my stomach and the medium-large one behind my knees. It had to be 400 degrees under the covers.
If I do manage to turn over at any time, they reposition and re-pin in moments. Later during the night I woke up on my back with my hands clasped above my head behind the pillow. I had one on either side of me. Even in my sleep, I move my arms out of the way to accommodate them. How the hell are they doing this???
I turn off the heating blanket when I get into bed - I only use it to take the chill off before I get in and David can tell you, I'm no thermogenic wonder. He gets my ice-cold feet on his legs every night. I know they seek out warm snoozing spots, but that generally isn't me.
So that tells me I must smell like chicken wrapped in bacon. Or maybe it's all those times I've moved the cats around the house with my mouth.
1 comment:
Mmmm, sleeping with chicken wrapped in bacon.
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