So there I am, laying in a Xanax coma on my couch cuddled with my kitten. Suddenly the couch starts to move violently. Being as my brain was somewhere far, far away I shouted at my cat to stop shaking. Yep. I did. Because that was the kind of logic that seemed appropriate. It was then that I opened my eyes to find my cat sitting still with what can only be described as a 'bitch please' expression upon his face.
Then the wine rack started to shake. Then the painting started to move. And then my wee little brain said 'ohhhh, it's an earthquake!' Then I contemplated moving to a doorway and by the time I had forced my body into a sitting position it was over.
So the moral of this story is: always take too much Xanax just in case there is an emergency and also, I am not good in a crisis.
Stupid earth.
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