I'm there now, actually. I'm teetering on the brink, and sometimes I'm so tired that I'm not quite sure if I'm still teetering or if I've slipped and am in a free fall off that cliff. I envision myself in a free fall, and think how relaxing that would be, and I'd just fold my arms under my head and stretch out... and float. You know you're really tired when you reach this point.
So this morning I had grand plans of going back to bed after getting Micah on the bus. This is something that can only happen about twice yearly, because no matter how tired I am, that movie line in Frozen so perfectly describes me. "The sky is awake, so I'm awake..." It's a hard life that I lead sometimes.
I pulled on my bathrobe instead of getting dressed, because I was just going to go back to bed. I managed to get Micah up and out the door without truly waking myself, because I was that tired. My bed was calling. It was a glorious sound. I let the dogs out so that they wouldn't wake me with their insistent need to be let out the minute I hit my pillow.
As I was waiting for the dogs, I bent down to pet the cat at the door, and felt a small lump on his neck. I picked him up to investigate further. My mind started engaging. That was a familiar lump, and I searched until I found it again. Sure enough, it was a tick, firmly embedded.
The nephew was getting ready for work, and I asked if he wanted to hold the cat or pull the tick. He chose neither, so I held Percy in one hand and grasped the tick with the other. Not exactly the way one should remove ticks, but it was early and I was tired. The dogs let themselves in the door while I was occupied elsewhere, and were milling around my feet because A CAT. IN THE HOUSE. I carried Percy in one hand and the tick in the other all the way to the door, and then GAH!!!! The tick is gone!!!!
I unceremoniously dumped the cat outside and immediately started scouring the floor for a tick. We have dark brown floors with black streaks. Ticks are small. I was at the other end of the kitchen when I pulled it, so that tick could be anywhere. It could be on the dogs. It could be in my bathrobe. OH MY GOSH THERE IS A TICK IN THE HOUSE THAT IS NOT DEAD AND IT'LL ATTACH ITSELF TO EVERY LIVING CREATURE IT CAN FIND AND WE'LL ALL HAVE LYME'S DISEASE.
You have to love the overtired mind and how it can jump from sleep walking to panic in no time at all, huh?
I had a plan. I locked all the dogs up immediately. I'd vacuum the floor, then scrub it. I'd surely find that tick if I covered every inch of the floor, right? And then I'd check the dogs over good, and probably bath them, too, just to be safe. I highly doubt ticks are phased by baths, but it wouldn't hurt. But first I went to change, because in the event that the tick was in my bathrobe somewhere, all that cleaning would give that tick time to embed in unmentionable places ON ME. I took off my robe and inspected it inside and out. No ticks. But those things are sneaky stinkers, and I wasn't taking any chances. Into the laundry it went. (The question of whether ticks minded baths or not once again entered my mind. It probably wouldn't mind a washer, either.) OH MY GOSH, THERE IS A TICK LOOSE IN OUR HOUSE AND WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE.
That overtired mind really gets out of control fast, doesn't it? Sheesh. Someone put that thing to bed.
After getting changed, I went back downstairs to start systematically scrubbing the floor. The nephew causally said he found the tick, lit it on fire, and washed it down the drain. He doesn't take chances with ticks either, apparently. Sadly, all the excitement had me wide awake, so I proceeded to scrub the floor anyway. Tomorrow is a new day. Perhaps I can catch up on sleep then.