In the past 24 hours, I have:
* gone to work for the day, leaving the door wide open
* left my keys in a completely unrelated door
* lost (and found) my cell phone in the truck
* banged into something with my shin hard enough that there's a bloody spot and a huge knot, yet I have no idea what I kicked
Trevor gets knocked out by tequila; apparently antihistimines are what make me a walking zombie. And yet there is no other way I can sleep through this cold. And with a thousand details still for the move (and nobody around to take over), I can't just not show up for my life like I usually would with a cold like this.
Wah! The good news is that Trevor gets home tomorrow night. Unfortunately for him, I plan to dump my problems in his lap and take to bed.