It’s hard to sleep in an overly-warm room, especially if you still can’t hang your foot off the edge because you know the things that live under beds can squeeze beneath even a futon frame. Then, when there’s a huge furry animal who loves to cuddle and shed heat on you, and it’s too warm for the bulldog to sleep, you end up getting up around 1am to cool things down a bit. Then you find out it’s nice and cool outside because a cold-ish front has moved in, and by golly, there’s thunder going on. Which means the bulldog will sleep right through everything once the room’s a livable temperature again, but every fresh rattle and peal means the Aussie will try to hide under the covers and under her beloved human…
It’s a wonder I got back to sleep at all.
Today I run, since I wasn’t able to yesterday. The damn ankle is my weak point, and it rolled on me while I was planting foxglove in the semi-dark on Sunday. (Don’t ask. There were hijinks, a bookstore, two glasses of wine, and much plot-downloading that evening, too.) Then there’s visiting yon doctor, and I should really get more milk. The kids are going through one of those phases where it’s like they bathe in the stuff.
Oh, and copyedits on Agent Gemini, too. That needs to happen.
I’ll just be over here, running in circles, barking. As is usual on a Monday.