Catatonia

My cat has completely revolutionized the concept of midnight munchies.
Regular as a clockwork and I must say his body clock is pretty accurate, he wakes up at 3:30am; that deliciously dream engrossing time when you're asleep deep into the depths of night and begins scratching at the bed post near my head so I can hear it.
Like a gentleman that he is he won't make meowing noises or ingratiate himself to my feet, no sir. He will scratch making somewhat loud scratchy noises, loud enough to wake me up, for I am a light sleeper and thus rouse me from whatever lovely nightmares I was chasing.

His only reason to do that is that he gets hungry. Hungrier than anything I've seen before and then he must be fed..and in fact I wait for him to finish because if I go to sleep again and he needs get out for ablutions then he'll wake me up yet again.
Eyelashes still stuck in dream swamp I stay sitting on the floor sometimes waiting for the fiend to finish his 'almost dawn' repast and decide whether he'd like to trot outside or laze inside the house, and it's almost 50-50.
Sometimes he'll go out, sometimes he won't.

When I hit the bed it takes me a solid 15-20 minutes to find the sleep I'd lost, excavating it from whatever hole it burrowed itself and pull it out to stretch in front of my eyes.

Just when I thought I'm finally asleep the alarm decides to wake me up, and so up I stay.
Though for some reason the couch offered me solace and let me sleep sometime in the morning and don't I love it just.