I had a rude awakening this morning.

Actually, most of the midwest had the same rude awakening. I was lying in bed, postponing getting up as long as I possibly could. The hubby was yelling — for the third time, I think — for me to get my sorry behind out of bed. Typical morning in the James household.

My Schnauzer, Dr. Carter, was quite content to sleep next to me. I was out sick yesterday, and he probably assumed we could both sleep in again. He suddenly started shaking. My first thought was that he would get sick. Dr. Carter has a sensitive tummy, and I’d snuck him a chicken nugget at dinner the night before. So I figured I was going to reap what I’d sown. But then the cockatiel, Peanut, started going nuts in his cage. The hubby was trying to settle Peanut down when… whammo!

The bed started moving, and I could literally hear the walls shaking and shifting. In my sleep-hazed mind, I shouted something brilliant at the hubby like, “What the hell?!?” The tremors lasted a good ten seconds.

The irony is that I have been a bit paranoid about going to San Francisco for RWA nationals in July because I was afraid of an earthquake.

But I didn’t even have to leave Indiana to get one.