To pee, or not to pee, that is the most pressing question at 3am:
Whether ’tis nobler to make haste to the bathroom or to suffer
The slings and arrows of an unfortunate sleeping partner,
Or to take arms against a pile of wet sheets
And by opposing them, to break sleep briefly
But avoid the heart-ache of being consigned to the couch henceforth
And the thousand blows that flesh shall be subject to?
‘Tis a bother when slumber Is devoutly to be wished. To sleep,
To sleep, perchance to snore; aye, there’s the fart,
For in that sleep, the cat will come,
When I have shuffled off this suffocating duvet,
The feline will pause, curled and purring at the foot of the bed.
There’s the fake respect
That makes calamity of cat-ownership so life-long.
I really need to go!