As Good as My Day Was Going to Get


Warning: this post is cute to the point of being cloying. If you have a low tolerance for cuteness, don't read it. It will gross you out. It might also make you think I'm kind of pathetic, but I'm willing to take that risk.

As I've mentioned, I suffer from insomnia, which I sometimes treat with alcohol (a couple of beers or a shot of vodka being my preferred alcoholic treatment), antihistamines, or prescription sleeping pills--or, if things are really bad, both booze and pills. It's not ideal but desperate means call for desperate measures.

I also have trouble waking up. I've met--and marveled at--people who stir, open their eyes, then immediately and joyfully rise to greet the day! Not me. I stir, notice that it's morning; I look at the clock and feel profound relief if I don't have to get up in the next half hour or so, then snuggle in my blankets and doze cozily for as long as I can.

Last week sucked. Crap happened and I was anxious. As a result, I didn't get a single night of chemical-free sleep all week.

Until Sunday night, that is....

My cat Dinah often sleeps at the foot of my bed. She's black and white, cute and cuddly, and if I ever get around to learning to use the digital photo I got for Christmas (I asked for it specifically so I could post photos on my blog), I might even upload a photo of her here.

I woke up a time or two Sunday night, but still managed to go back to sleep without drugs. (Yay!) At about 6:30 a.m., I woke, turned onto my left side, nudged Dinah with my foot while making a series of silly noises intended to beckon her to me, and lo and behold, the noises work. She draped herself over my right shoulder and we both went back to sleep for a while. Then I rolled onto my back and she adjusted herself to curl under my chin, but the only place for her head was on my cheek, so that's where she stuck it. And I could feel the vibrations of her purring against my head and my bed was warm and comfortable and I thought, "This is perhaps as good as my day is going to get."

The day didn't suck. The weather was decent; work was decent; I wore an outfit I really liked. But it never did get better than lying in a warm bed I had no need to leave before I was ready while my nice little cat purred against my face.


I am not sure how I am going to write this without it seeming snide. In fact, the tone ought to be taken as exactly as sweet as your posting was. I do not believe that we live in a "post-ironic" age; indeed, I think irony, especially the snotty kind, abounds. I am just hoping that I can write this without a trace of irony and that the intent and the meaning are seamless. Here goes:


That is just so sweet. My cat, Mao (an old joke: not only can he tell you who the Great Helmsman was, he also can tell you his own name) is about fourteen now and fairly cranky. Still, early in the mornings he comes in yelling at me to lift the duvet and let him cuddle for a few minutes before he gets me out of bed to feed him. And I do not mind one little bit.

Hey, I'm glad you took the "risk." Softie..hehe. But there's nothing like a kiss from my dog to cheer me.

There are days when you need look no further than your own cheek to be bound by the beauty of life.

I couldn't sleep either so I put a movie on. It did not purr on my cheek.

I think that's lovely! Of course, I'm a terrible sap, and love it when any of my cats do something similar. So it may be cloyingly cute - but I'm all about the cat cuteness.

Hi, kind commenters--I'm glad to know I'm not the only one who takes comfort in the affection of a pet, and I'm really grateful you let me know you weren't just horrified. :-)

By the way, Spike, your cat is even more eloquent than you might have thought, because he can also tell you what he is: mao is also the Mandarin word for cat. It has a different tone than the surname of the Great Helmsman, but it's the same syllable. It's one of my favorite Chinese words--I love how obviously onomatopoetic it is, because it clearly imitates the noise a cat makes. Whereas the word for dog is gou (pronounced GO, which is kind of cool if you think of the kid's book Go, Dog. Go!) and dogs say, "Wong! Wong!" instead of "Woof! Woof!" or "Bark! Bark!"

I liked your post, Holly. Like you, I like to revel in the delicious feeling of waking up slowly. With cat. With feather duvet. With soft pillow. With the sounds of the kids and John starting their day and I'm still lying in bed, realizing that it just feels soooooooo good.


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This page contains a single entry by Holly published on April 18, 2006 10:34 AM.

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