07.16.2004 - 9:48 a.m.

I am instantly awake, the kind of awake that knows I've just heard a noise, but can't remember what it was. It wasn't a cat, as both of them are lying on my bed, but it was certainly real, as both cats have their heads swiveled towards the door, ears at attention. It is 4:15 AM, and the roommate is elsewhere tonight. It was probably the icemaker.

It was probably the icemaker, but my mind has already brought up the image of a large man in dark clothes, possibly two, gently and silently removing the roommate's TV from the living room. Did I lock the door when I came home? I don't remember. I forget pretty often.

The cats are still staring at the door. I want to call the boyfriend, to tell him I am stupidly thinking there are people in my house, and to listen while I go out and check the door lock, periodically stopping to yell, "I haven't seen you yet! You'll be uncatcheable if you leave now!"

But my cellphone is out on the dining room table, and I don't know his cell number myself. I could call his house number on the land line, but it wouldn't be him who answered, and really, only boyfriends should be subjected to needless paranoia before dawn. I am sure it was the icemaker. And if the men in my living room are creeping back towards my door, looking for scarier things, I have options. Like 911, or jumping out the window. It's on the second story, but there's an air conditioning unit I bet I could land on.

I get out of bed and silently put on a tanktop and some gym shorts. Now I won't have to bang on a neighbor's door naked. The cats, fully awake now that I am moving around, stretch and hop off the bed. One goes out into the rest of the apartment while the other rubs herself against my legs. I hop back into bed, cradling the phone, staring towards the rest of the apartment. I nearly stop breathing when the remaining cat goes at attention again, but it is only the second cat returning. It is 4:35 now. Surely I would have heard something more, if there were people here, I mean? Surely, if the TV is gone, and probably my laptop too, they've already made their quick getaway? A truck starts in the night, probably someone with an early shift or a long commute, but it could also be my intruders, leaving. Leaving me safe. It is 4:55. I fall asleep holding my phone.

For about ten minutes until the cats begin wrestling, which they do intermittently for the next hour. After yelling several times and throwing a roll of masking tape, two empty (or mostly empty) cups, and both of my pillows at them, I am sobbing, I am stomping and slapping at them, I am closer than I have ever been to actually killing a furry thing I love. I shut one out of the bedroom and one in. I stomp over to the door again in a few minutes, hearing them scratch at the carpet beneath the door. Stuff it with a towel. It is hard to breathe around the hysterical snot. Bury myself back in bed. It is 6:24. I can relax. I hear cars starting, headed for the base, I hear a morning bird trilling. I dream of hosting a party full of people I didn't invite and don't want to serve while everything else around me goes wrong, I dream in fear until my 7:45 alarm, which I snooze past all possibility of breakfast or a shower.

And that is how you can be six hours into a crappy day when you've only been awake for two.

-stonebridge

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