Just Your Average Monday Morning

Sunday nights are bad. Sunday nights after a long weekend are waaaay worse. Last night, I laid in bed for nearly two hours, trying to keep a rising wave of panic from overtaking me. As soon as I my head hit the pillow, I thought of about a million things I needed to do today and NOT FORGET. Then I thought of a thousand other things I needed to do THIS WEEK. Then I tried to sleep, but couldn't.

I must have dozed off at some point, because I woke up twenty minutes before my alarm with the most deafening crash I'd ever heard. It sounded like an entire bookshelf and all of its contents had tipped over. I rushed out to see what the cats had done now. I looked in every room. Nothing was out of place, except the guitar (and the crash didn't sound like it would come from a guitar). I was so confused. I decided to get dressed and ready to go. When I walked outside, I realized that there was snow on the car. When I had scraped it off, I sat for a minute in the car in order to let it warm up. As I sat there, I saw Mrs. Hufflepuff DART AROUND THE SIDE OF THE HOUSE! I freaked out IMMEDIATELY as any indoor-cat owner would do. Especially our indoor cats. They think cars are their friends.

So I turned off the car, and ran out after her. She dashed into the darkness. I spent six minutes circling the house calling "kitty kitty" and feeling the kind of fear I imagine parents feel when they've misplaced a child. Before panic could completely overtake me, I decided to open the door and make sure the other two cats were in. As soon as I got in and closed the door behind me, ALL THREE OF OUR CATS came sauntering down the stairs, all calm and collected, and with no regard to my hysteria. I was this close to crying, people. THIS CLOSE!

After I snuggled them goodbye, I got back into the car. Lesson learned: don't forget the neighbors have an outdoor cat.