I woke up on my 32nd birthday with a dreadfully heavy feeling in my chest. It was so heavy that it woke me up. It brought me out of my dream state. Something was weighing on me, I could actually feel it, physically.
I stirred slowly. I opened my eyes. I was aware of a heaviness. I focused on a grey loaf-shaped thing mere inches from my face. It was my cat. She was sleeping, in loaf position, with her butt perched on my throat, restricting my air passages.
Chloe, I can't. Breathe.
So that's how I woke up on my 32nd birthday, with my cat, apparently trying to suffocate me in my sleep. With her butt. Happy birthday, momi.
Okay, thanks, Chloe. Looks like I've survived another year.