Stick a Fork in Me

What a night. What a mind-blowingly busy night it turned out to be. Work has been, by and large, fairly quiet of late. Thursday night was a steady trickle - busy enough, but manageable. Last night even started off fairly mildly. I was even able to knit a few rounds on snail hat #2. Then around 3AM the shit hit the fan. Not literally, fortunately, though that has been known to happen here on occasion.

I am so physically & emotionally drained by the path of death and destruction last night brought, that I am nearly seeing double. I can barely walk. I am definitely taking a nap before trying to drive the hour home, as I don't think I could even manage the walk to my car at this point.

One bit of fun last night was that I got to see Mr. Tittlesworth again. Here's a photo of him from his first visit to see me.


He is, as they say around here, "wicked cunnin'." He is not, however, a happy patient and requires, as you can see, something more than just kid gloves. In spite of his name, he is not British. He is, in fact, an African Hedgehog, so perhaps he's just pissed off that he's been given the name of the white devil oppressor. His human seems just slightly, well, unbalanced. She does, however, love this little guy to death and will undoubtedly be devastated when he lives out his short little lifespan. He's potentially got another 4+ years in him, though, so if he could just stay out of this place he may do fine.

And now, sleep beckons.