In which Emma gives me a turn
I was just out in the kitchen - it’s about 12:14 AM - getting some ice to top off my Giant Red Mug o’ Water for the night. It’s 64 ounces. If you’ve seen me at a con or a party lugging this great big garish thing around you no doubt think I’m the world’s biggest alcoholic. And I don’t drink alcohol at all. But I’ve always slogged down immense quantities of water. Having basically a tank-truck with a handle saves me having to keep running for refills.
Anyway … I’ve missed a lot of sleep, what with one thing and another (no, nothing that fun), the last several nights. So my perceptions are a bit altered, here. As a consequence, when I noticed, out of the corner of my eye, a blur of shiny black fur coming into the kitchen I decided that it must be Squeak.
Then I turned, and it’s Emma. I jumped about a foot in the air and my heart almost stopped.
See, here’s the thing: Squeak’s a cat. She weighs like twelve pounds. She’s basically a very glossy black football with legs and a tail and big yellow-green eyes. Emma Dog weighs in at nearly 100 and is the size of a miniature horse. Almost, anyway. And, in the kitchen late at night, unexpectedly seeing a great big black something that looks like Emma is startling, let me tell you.
She gave me a hurt look anyway. Dad! You thought I was a monster.
Sorry, sweetheart. But … yes. Yes, I did.
And why did WordPress just give me a message, Saved at 25:17 AM? What is up with that?
Oh. Whew. That’s twenty-five minutes and seventeen seconds (because it just now autosaved again at 0:29:30.) I thought the people in charge of Daylight Savings Time had decided to really screw us up this year.
I told you I get weird when I get short on sleep. Weirder.