Tired is not EVEN the word

Sam was up at 11:30 yelling. Scott was nice enough to go deal because I was not feeling well, and just plain tired. I go back to sleep.

I was having such a nice dream, when I was awakened by the smoke detectors going off. Cassie scrapes 67% of my skin off vamoosing off of my stomach (her favorite new sleeping position at night.) I lean over to look at the clock and it's 2 AM. 2 in the FREAKING morning. NO smoke or flames anywhere to be seen, no one evacuating the building. Scott races around the apartment trying to turn off the alarms, while Sara runs in the room scared and Sammy can be heard in his room yelling "loud! Too loud!"

We were unable to turn them off, so the fire department was called and the kids taken out by my husband while I tried to grab the panicked, insane feline and stuff her into her carrier (just in case). Unfortunately I had to leave her, she just wouldn't come to me...was completely frightened, and since she's JUST getting used to us, she wouldn't come to me. I hate to think what would happen in a real fire...It's cold but I figure my children need their mother more than their cat...but that's a far more mercenary thought than I want to consider at the early stage in the Cassandra/Gina relationship.

So I leave the apartment, and I must leave the door open for the firefighters. They arrive in like 10 seconds since they department is 2 blocks away. The problem? The batteries went dead. The batteries that we just changed a month ago.

I think that there is some sort of universal law that all emergencies must take place at 2 am. Never in the day when we're rested and prepared.

We trek back into the building...glad no neighbors are there to see us in our mismatched pajamas. Front door open. Master bedroom open (where the kitty "lives"). No sign of Cassie anywhere. Scott and I put the kids to bed and examined everywhere we could think of with our trusty Mac Lite (TM)...She seemed to be gone. I tried to quell my rapidly breaking heart enough to get shoes, flashlight and keys to go look.

Scott and I took turns, for a total of 2 hours, looking through the building, basement and surrounding grounds, including the area where we found her. All we found where about 9 creepy specimens of the local feral cat society. All sitting on their haunches or circling us STARING. Eventually, we gave up. I figured that a panicked, frightened cat who doesn't want to be found won't be, and we went inside. I printed out a ream of "Lost Kitty" posters to distribute in the morning. Hey, she may be just my stray that I took in on Thursday, but she's MY stray, and I love her, goshdarnit...

We read a while then go to bed at 4 am.

4:30 am I am awakened by claws in my butt again. I've never been so happy to hurt and itch (I'm allergic to cats, go figure) in my life. I actually asked Scott if I was awake...because I was so very broken up when I fell asleep and so immediately ecstatic. She happily curled up on my stomach, resumed purring and we went to sleep.

So that was my night. I had to sit through a Compass meeting this morning, which is basically Navy Wife 101. I'm taking so that I can be a mentor...not that I don't already know this stuff. LOTS of coffee...


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