Fuckin’ Studios
So, I’m crazy about this guy named Rufus. For the past 2 years, I’ve let him sleep in my bed almost every night. But, frankly, I’ve had enough.
Rufus is my cat, and he sleeps on my loft bed. And, the only reason I purchased said loft bed was to give me more space to create a “home office” beneath it. The Scandinavian-cramped-chic that is my apartment just doesn’t lend itself to house a normal bed. But, I hate having to climb a ladder in order to go to sleep. And, I’ve never liked planning on going to bed anyway. I like to just pass out. I blame this on my parents; they never gave me a bedtime. Ever. And, anyone from Upland (what-what!) will attest that I never slept in my room at home. I always crashed on the couch or the floor.
Unfortunately, I’ve taken with me this bad habit all the way to the N-Y-C. So, the middle cushion of my beautiful leather couch is completely worn down now. It offers no lower lumbar support, and thus, I’ve been in pain for a few weeks now. So, I’m taking my bed back! And, Rufus? You can roll your beady, yellow eyes all you want, but that’s my bed, bitch! I’m just going to have to learn to appreciate a planned-bedtime. Maybe I’ll start lying down to read before falling asleep or something (shudder).
ok, that cat looks pretty big, but isn’t there enough room in the bed for both of you?
Well, the cat in the picture isn’t actually Rufus, but that was just about the reaction I got from him when I told him about my plans.
And, there is enough room, technically, but Rufus is a cuddler and I toss-and-turn, so it doesn’t work out. We tend to both wake up around 3 am, absolutely frustrated with each other.