People don't usually call me in the morning hours, probably due to the fact that I am not even remotely a morning person.

Naturally, when my cell phone rang as I was squishing peanut butter onto my toast this morning, I assumed something was wrong. Not only that, but the phone was ringing with Heather's special ring tone. Something's wrong, and Heather's in trouble, said my sleepy brain. Disaster! I was already planning how I would save her while I rifled through my jean jacket to locate the phone.

In fact, Heather was fine. No need for a rescue plan. She ordered me to turn on CBC Radio 2, and BAM! There I was! They were playing one of my songs!

This is so much more awesome than a badly-planned rescue operation, I thought to myself (the fact that I was even thinking this proves how much I am NOT coherent before 10am).


Yes! Yay Tom Allen! And yay for Heather, without whom I would have had a boring tea-and-toast start to my day.

On a completely unrelated note, the washer and dryer are installed. My BH expertly hooked them up, with only one minor water explosion and swearing fit. Good thing too, because I am shit at fixing machines. My next experiment will be to see whether proper facilities will actually remove some of Morty's hair from my clothes. I'm beginning to wonder if my last washer just pushed the hairs in further.


Milan said...

Which song was it?

Stella said...