I got up as usual this morning at stupid o'clock. Negotiated the usual mess of tripping over cats and roommates in the bathroom and kitchen. Cleaned off my car and left the house around the usual time.
This was one morning that I really would have liked to stay in bed. I stayed late after work last night to have dinner and see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire with some girlfrieds from work. On any other night I would have simply stayed with one of them instead of driving home at 11 pm in a snowstorm. However, the roommate is going to Atlanta this weekend, and had asked me to drop her off at the airport on the way to work. So I had to come home last night, in order to drive her ass around this morning.
I wound up getting about 4 hours sleep last night, between the getting home late, the being too wound up from the drive to sleep, the cat waking me up at 4:30 because she wanted food... You can see why I just wanted to stay in my warm bed with my no-longer-hungry cats and my snuggly boyfriend (who turns 31 today!).
So a grumpy, tired, cold me started driving to work this morning. About 10 minutes away from my house, my car died.
The roommate took a taxi to the airport. I got a tow home and am now in my jammies.
I'm going back to bed.