~~ "She has so many aliases, you'd think she was a spy!" ~~

Friday, September 25, 2009

The good catches up

This morning, on the way home from Arkansas, Ken found a woman’s purse in a restaurant. He went to the trouble of putting it in the mail to her.

This afternoon, Ken’s wallet fell off the bike as he drove away from a gas station. Someone turned it in to the police station. The money (about $80) was gone, but all credit cards, etc., were intact.

Obviously we don’t know if the person who turned it in is the same person who took the money, but if it was, I’m going to assume s/he really needed that cash, and I’m okay with that.

The good really does catch up.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

What the—

I was tired all day today (yesterday, actually, given when I’m posting this). I didn’t get to bed as early as I should, and got up early to carpool to Collegium. I haven’t been sleeping well anyway, and I was tired enough today that if I turned my head too quickly, I got seriously dizzy.

(That said, Collegium was much fun, even if I only took two classes. Got lots of drive-by hugs, and I carpooled with nifty people.)

So I went to bed early. I was in there by 9 or 9:30, I think (yes, that’s extremely early for me), and read for a deliciously long time, which meant I turned off the light around 10:30. I did have a little trouble getting comfy, especially given the cats were being particularly loving and adorable and taking up much more of the bed than their share. (Yes, I’ll accommodate my spot in the bed for them. They purr.) But what I’m saying is, Sleep Good.

Until 12:30 a.m.

That’s when the doorbell rang. We still have the original doorbell to this house, and it’s loud. Really, really loud. It’s a shrieking buzzing sort of thing that startles me in the best of times when I’m expecting someone. Waking me from a sound sleep? Terrifying.

Ringing, and repeated knocking. I’m trying to find clothes to throw on. I can’t even process. Ken’s safe in Arkansas, so it can’t be the police to tell me he’s been in an accident. Is it our tenant? Is her apartment/our garage on fire? There are no sirens (we’re only a few blocks away from the fire station). More ringing and knocking.

I finally get downstairs, get the porch light on, look out the window. I don’t see anybody. I cautiously open the door. Nobody on the porch, either.

Thankfully my neighbor—the one who speaks English—had just arrived home from work. She said there’d been a young girl at my door, on a cell phone, and then she took off down the street.

We stood outside talking for a few minutes as I willed my heart to stop pounding out of my chest. Other than that, the night was quiet. It’s taken me a couple hours to fully settle down.

So much for my early night and solid night’s sleep… But now I’m going to try again!