How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?
My only goal in life is to sleep, and anyone who struggles to sleep will understand this. A good night’s sleep doesn’t simply make me feel better; it makes LIFE feel better. On those precious, rare days when I’ve slept well, I bounce through the day with the vitality of, erm, a small black cat on steroids. And, when I haven’t, I often wonder whether it’s even safe for me to be around people.
I have done everything in the Sleep Text Book to make it work: an enormous bed, eucalyptus silk bedding, a soft colour scheme and a gentle alarm which wakes me to the sound of birdsong rather than a tinny, synth version of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik or some such thing. I’ve even booted Cat Daddy out because of his snoring, and he is now banished to the attic bedroom.
So why, then, after all these efforts, do I allow Louis Catorze into the bedroom at night?
You’d think there would be plenty of room on a super-king-sized bed for me and a 3kg cat. Well, yes. But also: no.
The little sod is the most disagreeable bedfellow imaginable. More often than not he comes in soaking wet and screaming. And, after a few rounds of nocturnal parkour on the bed, instead of cuddling quietly beside me, his favourite thing is to sleep on top of me, either on my chest in Loaf Pose, or across my stomach like a furry, living belt.
(He does the same to chat-sitteurs when they stay here. They tell me that they find it cute, which it probably is if you’re just visiting. Living with it is distinctly less cute.)
Oh, and there are also incidents such as this one. And this one.
Catorze is the one thing that interferes with my one goal. So why don’t I say no to him? Why do I persist in letting him into the bedroom?
This isn’t rhetorical; I would genuinely like to know the answer.
louiscatorze.com 
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