Yesterday afternoon was crummy - I had a low that lasted for over three hours and I felt like that truck, chock-full o' penguins, had made another run through my body. I managed a workout and trudged through two bottles of juice, holding steady at 74 mg/dl but feeling like I was teasing the edges of a low for hours. (Yes, I should have skipped the workout, but I was feeling determined and, well, stupid.)
Later that night, exhausted and full of grape juice, I was finishing up some work in our home office. I was feeling melancholy. Moody, even.
Then I saw her.
As though she had fallen asleep sitting up and had tumbled over, like a chubby man on a park bench.
It struck me as so damn funny. A laugh, louder than I expected, burst out of me. I grabbed my ever-present camera and took a picture of my silly sleep Siah Sausage.
Funny how quickly that moodiness passed. Thanks, Siah, for being a constant source of LOL. (But don't think for a second that you can continue to torment Chris and I while we're sleeping. You jumping all over our heads at 5:00 am is unacceptable.)