We're having a chilly week, so I was looking forward to an evening indoors. I had a ticket to a fabulous performance, but the venue was so cold I had trouble sitting through the show. When I returned to Home Sweet Home, I carefully added a second blanket to my bed.
Saturday night I couldn't sleep and decided more covers might help. Without benefit of glasses or light, I tried to wrestle a fleece blanket out of its tight confines in the linen closet. After a few unsuccessful tugs, I gave one more big heave, lost my grip, and punched myself squarely in the nose. I saw stars and envisioned the headline in the local paper if I had to drive my dripping, throbbing nose to the emergency room.
I'm typing this in layers, including a fleece jacket, hood up. The question is how much I'm willing to remove before crawling in bed. Before you laugh, remember that I have a wicked punch...
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