Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down. (Says the Carpenter)

I woke up coughing, and wishing that I had taken more initiative to see a doctor this weekend. I think that the dust in the air at my work has started to really affect me, I've been having what I assume to be asthma attacks which I've never had before. I just wanted to sleep a little longer. Mornings come all too fast and I'd had a little trouble getting to sleep as well.
Last night, the neighbour's cat kept me up for some time, meowing outside the window. The members in my household, Chateau Rockingham, named him Dexter although we later learned that his real name is Nipper and that he's a she. Dexter was aptly named, her real name Nipper, for last night when I was talking on the phone to my Mom she finally bit me. We had started letting her into our house every once in a while for visits although the habit had fallen to the wayside after she started biting people. First she bit Kevin, then later Calvin, then Lisa and then Kevin again. The second time that she bit Kevin he was suitably punctured that he felt it warranted taking advantage of our Canadian Health Care and then a trip to the clinic.
Of course while Dexter went around biting people I went around making highbrow comments about how to correctly handle cats, I hadn't been bitten, had I? It seemed unbelievable that Dexter could bite so many people, he's such an affectionate cat; really, really affectionate. The thing is that right when he is most affectionate is when he bites, so Kevin told me. Calvin and Lisa corroborated.
Dexter suffered a larger fall from grace when Calvin started complaining how he was kept awake by Dexter meowing at his window at night. He finally convinced Dexter of the fact he wasn't welcome around the Chateau anymore.
With Calvin and Kevin on holidays, I felt fine letting the little rotter in. I stilled enjoyed his company. But then he bit me and I changed my mind a tad. And finally last night I understood, the stupid cat sat meowing outside my window for quite some time.
When I woke up coughing I wasn't really thinking of Dexter. I was thinking of how I wasn't ready to get up yet, and how the mornings are sure staying darker later. I worried through an obligation that today brings, I considered my cough and whether I should just call in sick and go into the walk in I coughed some more wondering if, even though I knew I had a bit more time to rest, if I should get up to get a drink to try and soothe my throat. I rolled over and looked at the clock. 1:57 am. I had only been asleep a few hours.
I got up to get a drink, and thought I should take advantage of the hour by calling my sister, nine time zones away. I had tried calling her yesterday but for whatever reason I couldn't get through. I really miss that girl. To employ tremendous understatement, I'm rather lucky to have her as a sister.
I headed up the stairs and then behind me I heard a meow, Dexter was still in the house, having been locked in the basement. I guess he had been meowing outside my door, not my window. I swear if I find any cat sh!t in the house... I opened the door to let him out but he looked hopefully up the stairs. I bodily threw him into the thankless night. Honestly, the gall of that cat.
I phoned my sister, interrupting her in a staff meeting, thereby realizing that there was no silver lining to my waking up four hours prematurely. And now here I am, blogging my woes to you. It's going to be a rough day. I should get some sleep. Sometimes I absolutely loath Mondays.