The Life of a Cat by Dusty

I awake on the couch again. The early morning sun hidden by the blinds she insists on having closed. I can't live in the dark.
I want to see her. I scratch at the door. How can she not hear me? I hear her rolling around, tormented by my screams.
The bitch still won't let me in the bed. Just cause I had a little episode with her face. Like I can control what my long claws do.
She is in the shower. I stay in the room because the steam is good for my fur, but I try to talk to her and she just yells at me to shut up. She keeps saying, "stop crying", but I am not crying. I am just talking.
Thanks for the kibbles, lady. Just once I want to awake from the 98th nap of the day to find something other than dry cat food. Perhaps some raw tuna or caviar. Yeah, the good life.
What is this box with light emitting from it like a beacon? She stares at it for hours. What is so interesting? Look at me! Look at me!! Look at me!!! LOOK AT ME!!!!
I'm just gonna take a little zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz