So this morning I awoke under the indistinct impression that I was a cardboard box, was trapped in a cardboard box, or was charged with the constant surveillance of a very important cardboard box. Those of you who think this has something to do with the recent moving ordeal are probably correct. As I calmed down and stopped hitting my husband for interfering with my important anxiety, I realized that at least part of my problem was that my neck was bound up and my brain was stabbing its way merrily to migraine.

So Matt managed to convince me to crawl to the bathroom for Tylenol, and thence to the kitchen for breakfast, to make sure the Tylenol reached my stomach in good time, whilst he showered. I ate breakfast feebly, wrapped in two blankets and a bathrobe, and feebly crept back to the bedroom, where the sound of water attested that Matt was showering. I knew I would need to wait for him to finish and ask him how long to wait for the hot water (as the habitual first showerer, this is not something of which I hold detailed knowledge.) I sat myself down to wait. It was cold and I lacked back support. I crawled over to the space between the wall and the bed, wrapped a blanket around my feet and over the heating vent, and wrapped the other around my head. This way, I could lean against the bed. The goal was twofold - to await Matt’s emergence from shower (hence the placement a mere 5 or 6 feet from the door of the master bath) and to not fall asleep (the last thing Matt wants in the morning is to wake me up twice - hence the placement against, not atop, the bed.)

So there I sat, swaddled like a matryoshka, the heating vent sighing into comfortable life under my feet, the shower susurrating…

I woke up over a half hour later, to discover that Matthew had gotten out of his shower, walked by me without noticing I was there, ate his breakfast, got dressed, and finally awoke me accidentally by sitting down on the bed to tie his shoes and thereby joggling my head. When pressed upon where he thought I had gone and so forth, he maintained that he believed I had gone to sleep on the couch in the basement. Hmmph!