Enforced Insomnia

I can't sleep. Not because I have a lot on my mind. Not because I'm overly depressed, worried, or tense about anything. Not because I didn't spring for the Serta Comatose Deluxe, either.

No, I can't sleep because I have a tiny, black, fuzzy assassin jumping on MY FACE. My feet proved to be too hard to get to, my hands didn't have enough meat, but, oh my dear, MY HEAD! It's large, easy to see, and mostly unprotected. It also makes the most delightful squealing noises when 10 needle-like claws are sunk into it, especially during a 3 a.m. sneak attack.

Kittens are SUCH fun.