Seriously. I was about ready to send him up in front of a UN Tribunal for violating the Geneva Convention. Every twenty fucking minutes it was something else. Hey hey hey look hey look hey look look hey hey look wake up and look let me back into the room damn you hey look look look. You're not supposed to interrupt REM sleep like that. Ow. Ow ow ow ow.
I think this was his revenge for my watching THE GODFATHER last night and hollering Jack Woltz's tirades at him. It makes him look ridiculous. AND A MAN IN MY POSITION CAN'T AFFORD TO BE MADE TO LOOK RIDICKILUS! Add to this the fact that Mr. The Cat is neither German nor Irish, so it's understandable why he was confused when I called him "my Kraut Mick friend."
But still. I need my REM sleep and get very upset when I do not get it. So as far as I was concerned this morning, Mr. The Cat could've gone and met himself a very nice tollbooth as long as it meant 45 more minutes of blessed dreamtime.