Just When You Think ...

Well, today taught me that I am still battling sleep apnea. I'm winning the war, and most of the battles, but every now and then apnea musters up its energies for a massive assault. And they almost always happen on Saturdays.

For about a year, I was always very tired and drained, and found it difficult to get the energy up to do anything. However, I would also get very bored, very easily, and would force myself to go out. Saturday was always the one day I would rest. Most of my friends would be busy, working, away at the cottage, etc., and there are no improv classes to go to on Saturdays. So Saturday was usually my stay home and rest day.

Well, my body got used to that, and I guess my body considered Saturday to be rest day. So even now, about 3 months after getting my CPAP (a machine which helps me breathe at night), on the odd occasion my body insists on shutting down on Saturdays.

Today is one such occasion. I woke up (after the alarm beeping for about 15 minutes) and realize there is just no way I can get out of bed. I want to get up, but the energy isn't there. Morpheus has me firmly in his embrace, and even after a night of fun, the selfish bastard still wants to cuddle.

So, I called in to work, and went back to sleep. Luckily, I think they understand the situation where I work, and I feel that they are supportive. I finally got up around 1:30 pm, feeling like I could use about another week's worth of sleep, but even when you are exhausted there is only so much sleeping you can do.

I went online to check email and my blog (I admit to being egotistical enough to want to see if anyone has commented) and discovered that one of my coworkers (who was nice enough to give me a great little kitty) had brought the cat to work that day expecting me to pick it up. Now, the last thing I felt like doing was going out, but I didn't want to inconvenience my coworker, so I headed off to work.

When I got there, I found out that she had just been kidding - the comments in my blog were joking. She felt bad, but I told her not to worry about it. I wasn't kidding either, I wasn't at all upset. I have played my fair share of pranks on people in the past, and I know what its like when one has unexpected side effects.

After we straightened things out, I went off to her house to pick up the kitten. I have the kitten now. Her name is Crystal ... yes, after the cat in my poems. You see, they have things in common. Crystal in the poem kills off her brothers and sisters one by one. Crystal (my kitten) is the only survivor of her litter. I am reasonably sure she was not directly responsible for this.

The thing that cemented the name in my mind though was the attitude. The first thing Crystal did when she saw me was hiss at me. The first thing she did when I picked her up was bite me. She's feisty.

So, now we're getting to know one another. My dog Ayla is going bat shit. She wants so desperately to run over and lick and play with the kitten. But she is also smart enough to know that she can't do that yet. I'm serious. She sits around staring at the kittten, her tail wagging, but she leaves her alone while she gets used to her new home.

When I first introduced Crystal and Ayla, Ayla was going nuts. I said "Ayla, be gentle", and she immediately calmed down. She sat patiently, and waited while I brought Crystal to her. And she mustered all of her self control, and only licked the kitten once. The first in what I am certain will be a long lifetime of head-to-toe lickings for that cat.

I will end up by posting a few pictures of Ayla with Powder (a cat that I used to have, but one I lost in a break up). Ayla loved that cat so much, I am excited to see how she and Crystal grow and play together. I will, of cours, take some photos of Crystal and post them later.