Woke up at an absurd hour this morning, because I swore I heard knocking. 2:30 in the morning when I'd gone to bed not even an hour before, and I was already planning on suffering the morning to come...and I'm standing in the doorway, feeling cold night air on my face, wondering if I was awake or dreaming.
I go back to bed, and it seems not a moment has passed before there's a plaintive little voice at the door, and
catdancer is crawling into bed to cry on my shoulder.
Okay. Brainworking. We can get this going. Excessively little fuel, and extraordinarily overtired, and my words are slurring, but I'm comforting as best I can. What happened. Everything's going to be fine. Why are you still home.
Turns out she went to stand up, to get ready to be upstairs to wait for the bus, and halfway up, fell down the stairs. Short flight of stairs, but in her condition...
...the thing that worries me in this? Never heard her fall. I've been pulling these very long nights for a bit now, and I guess the build-up finally hit me. Didn't hear anything.
So...she's in the chair again, and spending a day home from work. 50/50 chance right now she's going to be fired. Joy, joy.
I gotta go, my bus is here.