The Crash.

My first schooless week was a little crazy. I went from sleeping on my apartment floor (all of my things were on my bed and I was too lazy to move them) to sleeping on my cousin's couch, to sleeping in the car, to sleeping on my new bed (which is humongous by the way) in my grandma's house, and then to sleeping in my sister's bed the night before our Nauvoo trip (which I'll have to blog about later). Anyway, the night that I was with my sister -we both managed to squish ourselves next to each other on her rather smallish bed -I woke up in the middle of the night to a rather large crash! I tensed, every limb in my body frozen. I had no idea where I was and I had on idea what had caused the crash. I was afraid that someone had come in and was robbing us. And I didn't even know where I was! So, as I sat there, scared out of my mind, I felt something next to me. My sister rolled over in her sleep. Oh. I was with my sister. In her room. I then came up with a reason for the crash. It must have been one of her shelves. They often times like to come undone and fall randomly whenever guests are over.

When we woke up the following morning I remember looking out over the room and seeing the shelf, hanging from it's bolts with it's contents sprawled out all over the floor. My sister leaned up over me to look at her room. Her eyes grew wide and she made a face. "What the crap happened to my room!" I laughed and told her the story. When I asked if she had heard the crash -for how could anyone have missed it?? -she said that she had but that she thought she had only dreamed it up. But no. Obviously she hadn't.

Isn't it fun when you're house wakes you up in the middle of the night and plays tricks on you?