This is why we can’t watch nice things

It’s been a very busy but very good weekend, filled with family and football and organizing the house, puppies and snow and Outback Steakhouse.

And I’m lying here in bed at 11:30 pm knowing that I have to get up at 6 to make it to an 8:30 meeting.

There are a lot of things I could be fussing over – the project I’m on at work, the lack of training the two mutts have gotten & how they’re going to tear the house apart again tomorrow, the fact that all my drawing sucks lately…

But instead, I’m curled up with my head on my husband’s chest, his arms around me, and I listen to him breathe, and I think, “I hope River Tam is OK.”

Yes, River, from the TV show Firefly. At the end of Serenity, everything had been turned upside down. I found myself wondering who was still after River, and re-running all the events of the series in my head to see if she had the tools to cope. Is she OK? What’s happened?

It may be worth noting that I have watched neither Firefly nor Serenity in at least 6 months, and I haven’t even been listening to the soundtrack. There is no good, logical, or relevant reason to be worrying about the fate of someone else’s fictional characters at 11:30 pm when I should be sleeping.

So now I’m lying here trying to clear my head in hope that the sandman arrives soon, and he doesn’t bring any other fictional guests with him.

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