It Wasn't a Hangover After All

When I awoke Saturday morning the warm sun was shining overly bright through patio doors in my bedroom. The duvet was pulled up over my shoulders as I snuggled back into my pillows. The small part of my brain that was awake noticed that Hubby forgot to turn the AC off when he woke up and that the fan was on too high. That’s when I noticed that the bed was shaking.

Don’t get me wrong; we’re not talking about Lake Ontario during a squall shaking. It rather reminiscent of what I imagined a waterbed would feel like. I wasn’t terribly impressed with the motion of my temporary ocean.

My first thought was that I was more hung-over from the night before than would be normally expected. I dismissed this thought quickly as I realized that as my father’s daughter it would take far more than 4 drinks to do me in. (I’m sure my parents must be so proud… Or something.) My next thought was that the Indian mover-guys who reconstructed my bed did a slightly less than impressive job. As soon as I confirmed that the bed really was wobbly, I buzzed for Hubby.

I heard him mumble something from downstairs and waited for him to bound up the stairs to my rescue. And waited. And waited. And waited. Frustrated by my impending seasickness I buzzed him again. (Yup, an actual buzzer is built in next to the bed in order to beckon people located on the main floor. Convenient for lazy but extremely cute Typ0s like myself.) I heard more mumbling from the living room and continued to wait.

The shaking stopped as suddenly as it had begun. A moment later, Hubby appeared in the doorway and informed me that I had just lived through my first earthquake. I quickly realized that meant that the gentle shaking I felt wasn’t a hangover or shoddy Indian workmanship. I digested these facts for a few moments, snuggling Fuzz tightly while Hubby looked on from the doorway.

All of a sudden I shot up straight, a fearful look on my face, “Is the crystal OK?”

I knew that you were all worried about Hubby and I. (Just nod and pretend, OK?!) Yes, I survived my first earthquake in India. And more importantly, so did the Waterford.