Hey friendlies? I am tired. And I am sick. And I am, as my grandma would say, sick and tired of being sick and tired. So don't expect any greatness in this post.
But I do have a scary/funny story to tell. Ok maybe not that funny. Or scary. But trust me it was way scary when it was happening.
First I need to talk a little about my house. I am downstairs, in the bedroom connected to the kitchen. Everyone else is upstairs, above me. I like this arrangement just fine because it means that (a) I have my own bathroom, (b) I am close to the kitchen, and (c) I just do. I'm usually the last person to go to bed and before I do I always lock the doors. Because the door from the garage is right next to my room, and then there's the front door also and the back door that opens into the kitchen.
I do not want to be murdered in my sleep, k guys?
So anyways, I was sick yesterday too but don't worry about me because I'm not like deathly ill or anything, it's just an annoying virus that refuses to leave. But whatever. Point is that yesterday while my parents and sister went out and had fun I stayed home and ate soup (which was disgusting) and drank iced tea (which is, I swear, the miracle drink of miracle drinks) and slept way much. I turned on the television to watch the Glenn Beck show and I fell asleep during it.
So my point is that I slept like a googol hours yesterday which led to, like, no sleep at all last night. (Ooh wow I am so mixed up. Using the word googol and then like in a superflous manner. I am all kinds of crazy!) So I was up up up and I laid there in the dark forever before I finally decided to start reading my ARC of How to be Bad, which was so-so at first but just got better and better. (I shall be reviewing it on my book blog soon.) Anyway, on with the story. It eventually got to be past 2 in the morning when I finally finally finally started to drift off.
Then I woke up. Suddenly, frighteningly. I jumped up into the sitting position and listened.
Because the screen door was being opened. Or closed. SOMEONE WAS IN OUR HOUSE! In the kitchen! Right by my bedroom! And I do not exactly have a black belt or anything. It was very late and I was very tired and probably not in the best frame of mind to be encountering a prowler. I looked for my phone. It was somewhere. Hadn't I been writing myself a note on it just a few hours earlier?
Yes. There it was. On my green footstool thing that I sloppily keep my shoes in. I grabbed the phone and hit speed dial 2. And I heard my dad's phone ringing but couldn't tell where it was coming from. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen, which freaked me out for some reason and made me hang up real quick.
And... ready for the oh-so-anticlimatic endings?
It was my dad. Who was outside. And his phone was upstairs (fyi when it rang it freaked my mom out because it rang as soon as my dad went outside) and he was investigating some noise the sprinklers were making.
So yeah. That's my exciting story.