Literally driving me insane

I never knew that mild neurosis was a side effect of fostering, but there is no other explanation. The last week or so have been absolutely crazy what with trying to juggle the lives of six cats, my boyfriend's, and my own all under one roof. 

I've had precious little sleep and it's not been helped by the fact that about five times out of ten I wake up in the middle of the night, look around me and become convinced that the kittens are in my room. They're not, of course, but my favourite thing to do, alarmingly, is to "see" them in bed with us and start shouting at Matt not to roll over in case he squashes one. He's possibly more alarmed than me when this happens but he tells me he's used to it now. I've also been known to stare for long periods of time at corners of our room, utterly awake yet utterly convinced that I can see the exact contours of a kitten, if not several, sitting on my chair. I've had to physically get out of bed and grab the offending boxer shorts/discarded shirt/hairdryer to prove otherwise.

And it doesn't end there. Only yesterday both Matt and I found ourselves sat on the floor of our apartment with all of the cats around us, trailing bits of string and plastic mice around for them and - wait for it - singing a jaunty little tune together that we'd made up ourselves. We were convinced that it was exactly the type of tune you'd expect to hear accompanying a comical video clip of kittens playing on You've Been Framed or YouTube. 

Anyhow, I must remember to check the sound insulation of our front door. If I can often hear the neighbours talking, I suspect they can hear us singing to our six cats too.