Sleepy and can't sleep!

There are times where I feel like I'm on autopilot, just trying to make it through the day because I'm so darned exhausted.
Today was one of those days.
Half an hour ago, I was barely able to sit up on the sofa with Mr K and remain awake. Now, I cannot for the life of me fall asleep. Ack!
I shall rant now.
   Before I met my Mr K, I loved all animals. We had numerous dogs when I was growing up, and I loved every one of them, from Spunky and Blackie to Lazy and Precious. We had many semiferal cats thanks to ignorance and lack of funds for a simple spay procedure on the feral girl that showed up when we moved in. Anyhow this feral cat, Pookie, was a wild Calico girl. She was an avid hunter of field mice, moles, and other small varmints. We knew this because their corpses were often gifts at our doorstep. She loved us humans that she adopted, but hid from everyone else who ever came near our house. Pookie got sick when she was about 13 years old. She had gotten hurt by something and never healed well. We had a wonderful mail carrier who offered us help by rehoming her in a rescue that could afford the veterinarian bills that were likely extensive. After the hard choice was made to rehome Pookie, we were given a few updates about her from the mail carrier. She lived another six months with a whole pack of other semiferal cats rescued in our area. She died peacefully in her sleep one night. It broke my heart that I realized we were unable to care for her properly because of lack of finances on our part, but it also mad me swear to never get another cat as long as I lived because of how much losing Pookie (first to a rehome, then when she died) hurt me.
Then I met Mr K.
He has a cat.
   I have tried to like this cat, but have failed. We have been together for over four years now. This cat went from being left alone for days on end without Mr K due to business travel, to being here with me, every single day. I mentioned we had Pookie for YEARS earlier. Pookie was an outside only cat. I grew up in the south, so she only ever came inside on the rare winter nights that it froze outside. This was a handful of nights in the thirteen years she lived with us.
   Back to Scooter. Scooter was neutered and declawed in the front because Mr K didn't know better at the time, if he had known better, the surgery would have only been a neuter, no declawing done, period as told to me by the mister himself.
   Scooter cannot be an outdoor cat because he is defenseless without those front claws. This makes for a very frustrating life. Scooter also bites because Mr K thought it was cute when he would bite as a kitten. Scooter grew, as did his teeth. You see where this is going don't you? Scooter was never trained on proper play and behaviour. He thinks biting is the only way to show affection, playfulness, and aggression. This makes me not want to interact with Scooter as I am not fond of being bitten. This keeps Scooter locked away from me and our daughter since I will not risk bites to my child. It is not fair to the cat that my two year old chases him, his only recourse is to bite as a defense. I will not let him bite her so I keep them separated.
   I cannot and will not spend my entire day following my daughter around while she tries to play with Scooter. There are things like cooking, cleaning, practicing letters and numbers, and cuddle times that need to be attended to during the day. So, Scooter has his bed, food, water, and litter all within the confines of one room. When Tyrant is awake, Scooter is put up. When she is in bed for naps or for the night, or we are gone for an appointment, he can be loose. Scooter has no manners. He still tries to jump up on the counters and dining table (EW! Cat fur and litter on his paws from burying his excrement, freaking disgusting) I do not allow pets on surfaces where food is handled. That is not okay in our home. Scooter was allowed run of the house for the two or so years he lived with Mr K in the bachelor pad, so he got set in his ways. It has taken a lot of time, energy and water squirts to get him to behave while we are home.
   Anyhow, my point after all that rambling is this: Scooter and I do not like one another. We tolerate each other. Him because he knows where his food comes from, and me because i cannot be cruel. He loves K, and K loves him. I swore to my Mr K that I would never ask him to get rid of Scooter, as I could not handle it if he asked me to get rid of any of my three dogs. He tolerates the dogs just as I tolerate the cat. I would love nothing more than to hand Scooter off to someone who adores overweight orange tabby cats with no front claws, a fondness for biting, and a deep seated love of splashing all his water out of his bowl. But I cannot. I cannot give up my three rescue dogs. My Tink, who has a Chihuahua body and a Great Dane sized ego, my Zee, who is so timid she is afraid of her own shadow but loves to hunt small game like squirrels and mice, or even my Little Foot, whom Mr K and I rescued together during a family member's divorce or else she would have been euthanized.
   I cannot give up my dogs, so I cannot ask him to give up his cat.
   I can say, however, that I would happily say no to a new cat unless it was to be an outside only, semiferal but spayed Calico that would hunt all the snakes and other nuisance critters like our cat Pookie used to do for us.
 
   I'm going to sign off now, attempt sleep yet again, and pray that the demon spawn kitty does not bat at a door, jump on a counter, or attack a sleeping human foot tonight.