I knew from first light this morning that this wasn't going to be my best day. I had been awakened rudely in the night by a picture falling off the wall above my head, landing on the pillow mere inches from head. This scared me beyond words and I could not get back to sleep thatnks to the adrenaline, so I sat up and read more Harry Potter until 1:30am. This then caused me to have some crazy dream that involved me trying to give the Pope (the old one, not the new guy) some kind of potion, all while trying to reassure him that it probably wouldn't kill him. The rest of my night was sleepless as I tossed and turned and got up and walked around my apartment a bit. This made me very sleepy and grumpy at work.

Eventually I started to feel very unwell at work and left early to come home and take care of myself (I am terrified of getting sick and not being able to go to Israel, so when I don't feel well I am *right* on top of the situation). And lucky me, I came home to find that one of my two cats had a vomit festival all over my bedroom carpet. *sigh* Why? WHY must cats be little vomit bags like that? And why can they not do this on the hardwood floor, why must they do it on the beige rug, creating a stain that will never EVER go away? Because this was to be a crummy day, that's why.

All that and James Doohan, "Scotty" from Star Trek, died. I was very sad to hear the news as were all my geek friends (and he was Canadian, EH! Just like William Shatner, EH!!!)

Ok, back to my Harry Potter. 422 pages down, 178 to go.