So I'm housesitting these cats.
There's three of them. Normally I sleep in the guest bedroom but despite the fact nobody is here, the guest bedroom is occupied with the mother-in-law's things while they're all in Vegas. So I'm in the master bedroom. Which is the cats bedroom.
There are three of them. Gracie sits on top of the bedstead over my head and looms all night, not afraid of me, but not sure enough of the different situation to relax in bed. Maymay, the weird one, does this thing where she jumps out of the catdoor to the catpen in the room which goes BANG! and startles me awake every time. The other cats just glide in and out of it quietly but something about the way she does it is loud. So I bolt up out of bed from a dead sleep and she does this strange thing where she runs over to me and stares at me, like to say "Hi. I'm here. Whatcha doin?"
Finally the oldest most ancient cat, Harley, is obsessed with sitting on my face while I sleep. I'll wake up with the dreams of being smothered and realize I'm literally breathing warm cat fur as his ancient nails are kneading my face. So I'll carefully pick him up and move him to the pillow next to me and he'll get up in slow motion and move over to my head, "Oh no, it's okay, I just want to sleep on your face. Don't mind me."
In short, I'm not getting the most restful night's sleep here.
Maymay and the cat door has me typing this on the couch at 2:17 in the morning.