My cat is staging a hostile takeover of my bed. Which is either less weird or weirder than it sounds.

I like sleep. It's one of my favorite things to do. My parents' cat, Boo, is trying to make me sad by destroying one of my favorite things. My parents think it's retaliation for bringing her two lovely new friends to play with. I think she's just a bitch.

This is a very crudely drawn representation of my preferred sleeping arrangement:

As you can see (ish), I sleep on one side of the bed and use the other side as a very comfy shelf. The white thing in the middle is the pile of pillows my knee requires for an agony-free sleep, since I secretly have the joints of an 80 year old man. Don't tell anyone.

Since moving home, every evening when I enter my room, I see this:

That little black spot would be the previously-unknown-to-be-evil Boo. Right where I would like to be sleeping.

Still, fine, cat in bed, whatever, right? I'm big, she's small, I can move her to another bedroom. So I do. Repeatedly, since she inevitably shows back up. I've never really been one to sleep with the door shut, but when I'm eventually forced out of extreme annoyance to close it, it doesn't always take.

So small cat in bed again. Only now she's angry, because maybe one of my cats has followed her in, or maybe the stupid dog started barking at her when she left whatever room I put her in.

Out of what I have determined to be unbridled hate, she starts clawing at the bed. Which is a very cat thing to do, but when she keeps edging closer and closer to any exposed part of my body, I get nervous, and I move her away.

She always comes back.

Eventually, I give up on getting her out of my bed, and she momentarily pauses her evil clawing, I assume in order to lull me into a false sense of security so that I can fall asleep. At which point, my life becomes a horrible chess match, with me trying to sleep where I like on my bed, and her trying to make me miserable because she can.

Which looks something like

[No, I am not that skinny, wobbly, or bald. Bear with me here, I can't take pictures of this]

Only I move around a lot in the hour or two it takes me to get to sleep, and Boo doesn't like that. So she growls and whines and scratches and shifts, and eventually, I wake up more like this:

The slow shift towards the wrong side of the bed continues all night, with my knocking things on the floor, which--get this--SHE THEN PEES ON. So if I want to keep from having to wash a shirt or pair of pants every day, I have to make sure to not actually knock anything on the floor.

Long story short, it tends to end like this:

With me, sleeping on top of (or under) whatever crap has piled up on top of my bed. And, if you will, note the conspicuous lack of cat.

That's right, most mornings she gets bored with this, and wanders off to torment someone else in the family. And pee on stuff we leave on the floor.

Long story short: if you're ever in my house, don't put anything that resembles clothing on the floor, and don't make eye contact with the evil cat. I have yet to confirm this, but she may eat your soul.