Let me start by explaining that my roommate doesn't tend to worry too much about me. Some friends have expressed their fear for my well being on different occasions, but Roomie? He's just not a worrier.
Well he worried about me last night. I can't blame him either, after hearing him describe coming home at 1:30am to see my bike in the bushes and my keys not even in their usual place on the couch. This made it seriously look like I'd been abducted.
"If Leslie had been here to see that, she would've called the cops, the FBI, and gotten your face put on milk jugs."
Fortunately, I'm not blogging to you from a basement of a crazy. The night started with getting some brews with Super Cool Dana and her awesome hubs at Green Room. Those brews, in particular are the ones I always forget the power of. So just three in made for a bra and shoeless night (typical Abby protocol).
So I got home and decided
"I need to see the beach..." Then I decided "I need to sleep on it." Then decided "maybe not. I should sleep in my house." And started walking back up. Then decided, "No. I gotta do this." So I turned back around and found a comfy spot. Then woke up and walked back in. Not sure what my last deciding factor was. Roomie's concern even warranted a text checking on me. No response though.
"I could just see you coming home, getting a big smile on your face saying 'meteor shower!' And throwing the bike down and running to the beach."
Unfortunately I don't have a picture of any of this, though the Roomie thought about taking a picture of the poor bike like he has other Abbidence (evidence of Abby drinking).
So that was my night. No abductions. No no meteors.
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