Have you ever awakened from a nap only to think, “Just shoot me now?” After lunch, I couldn’t keep my eyes open, so I plopped down on the couch and went to sleep for a little less than an hour. Now I feel as though I’ve been tackled by a 6’5”, 320 pound linebacker and left to nurse my bruises on an unforgiving astroturf field. Ugh.
To make things worse, I startled the cat when I raised my head from the pillow, and she left an inch-long scratch on my left shin in her mad dash to escape. Now, it’s throbbing to some weird staccato beat: Thrump, thrump, thrumpety-thrump, thrump, and my head has joined in on the refrain.
The cat has recovered nicely and is out on the screened-in porch enjoying the sunshine and warmth. Meanwhile I’m trying to cure a headache with a cup of hot tea while my leg continues throbbing. Things will get better soon. Right?
I fell out of bed sometime early Wednesday morning. To be more precise, I fell while trying to return to bed after getting up with the cat.
Scout has been extra needy the past few weeks. After receiving a steroid shot for her allergies her appetite has increased exponentially. I don’t question the time she wants to be fed, I just feed her. She’s elderly, like me, and we know what we want, and we want it NOW.
Usually I can feed my girl without turning on any lights, but this time I couldn’t locate her clean dish in the dark, so I flipped the lights on in the kitchen. After taking care of Scout I turned out the lights and ventured down the hallway.
My eyes still hadn’t adjusted by the time I reached our bedroom, but I figured , “Hey, I could navigate this with my eyes closed.” Turns out, I can’t.
I took it slowly, using baby steps, but still misjudged where the bedpost was and stubbed the three middle toes on my right foot on said bedpost. In what I’m certain played out in cartoon fashion, I grabbed my injured foot and swiveled to sit down on the bed, missing my mark by several inches. Lucky for me, the floor broke my fall.
Studly Doright asked, “What happened?”
“I fell out of bed,” I said, not going into detail.
“Are you okay?”
“I think so.”
“Do you need help getting back into bed?”
“I don’t think so. I’m just going to sit here for a few minutes. Maybe forever.”
When I finally crawled back into bed I already hurt from stem to stern, and I knew that there’d be hell to pay later. Well, it’s later. Apparently I pulled a muscle in my right leg, damaged three toes, and need a crutch to get around. On the plus side, I can still feed the cat on demand. Nothing else really matters.
I had a bit of a fright this morning. After sitting in front of my laptop for a couple of hours trying to create an outline for a new book I’m working on, I decided to make a run into Tallahassee for necessities. Okay, I wanted wine, so sue me.
It didn’t take long to locate the wine I like (19 Crimes Cabernet Sauvignon), so after I placed a bottle in my basket I stopped by the pet food aisle and grabbed some cat treats before heading to the checkout line.
I seldom use the self-checkout registers, but with just three items in my cart I thought it would be less hassle. After scanning the items in my cart I looked up at the machine and gasped. There was a wild-eyed masked person looking back at me!
“Hey, you!” I said, rather forcefully.
The young woman who assists with self checkout came over immediately to help, but by then I’d realized that I was the wild-eyed masked person in question. It was my own face staring back at me from a small screen attached to the register.
Laughing, I told her what had happened saying, “I’ll bet this happens a lot these days.”
Today, Studly Doright went into his office in Tallahassee, gathered up all of his essentials and returned home to Doright Manor from where he will office as long as necessary. The cat and I have mixed feelings about this.
On the one hand we’re relieved that he won’t be interacting with potential carriers of COVID-19, and that he’ll be around to share his sense of humor and his “don’t worry, be happy” mentality.
On the other hand, Scout and I are wondering how we’ll stay out of his hair during the work day and how we’ll sneak in our snuggly naps. We’re just going to have to learn to sleep with our eyes open, I suppose.
I’m trying to finish a project (alright, a nap), when Patches inserted herself into the scenario, insisting that I rise from my comfortable spot and get her a treat. I call this one, “Can You Hear Me Meow?”