Sleep is for the Weak...

After a night of blogging, I am still lying in bed.  I woke to Gandalf snoring.  He seems to have a squeak.  I wonder if it's not a snore, but instead he is squeaking out "oil can."  Should I go find one?  Maybe he just needs more sleep.  But how do you know with a cat?

Sean, of course was up bright and early.  I am a night owl.  He is an early bird.  It balances, usually.  Unfortunately, when life gets busy, as it has this week, and will likely continue next week, we end up burning the candle at both ends, I even more than Sean.  Sean says, "Sleep is for the weak, and I had mine last week."  But what do I do next week, when I didn't have the sleep last week?

Oh to be a cat-
To startle awake, then not care.
To put one's head upon one's paws and sleep in a moment.
To find comfort in the oddest position, and to be able to curl in the tightest ball.
To sleep, perchance to dream, whenever the opportunity opportunity presents, with purr and with sigh, and naught a care in the world.

Gandalf likes his people.  Nora does too, but on her own terms.  Gandalf likes to be in your space.  Last night, as I tried to lie down, Gandalf lay beside me.  He is coming up on the size of a small beagle, and takes up more space than he should for a cat.  He prevented me from settling in my normal spot.  As I was typing, he began to dream, twitching, his feet clearly chasing something.  Was it the squirrel or the butterfly that got away?  Was he successful in his dream?  Did I mention he has claws, and he was twitching beside my leg?

Current;y both Nora and Gandalf are asleep on the other side of the bed.  Peaceful sleep reigns.  I, even without enough sleep last night, nor restful sleep thanks to the large cat in my life, am awake, with a mind running with the plans of the day.  Oh well, sleep is for the week, I mean weak...