I am lucky to be alive.

Monday morning at 5:30 AM is ugly enough if you are me and are conditioned to getting up at 7:30 or 8:00 and on weekends 9:00 or on occasion even 10:00 - although I feel guilty on those days and make sure I get up before 10:00 on the following weekend at least once.

But this Monday at 5:30 AM, I hadn't even managed to get to sleep. I was savagely attacked by some sort of virus in the night. I laid there 3/4 awake (I like fractions, like you like fractions). Yes 1/4 asleep and in-and-out of sleep. I could feel my whole body tense up as I visualized all sorts of hallucinations like me fighting bald lions, taking slap shots that went 300 miles per hour through the head of the goalie and buying groceries for the wiener eating contest. Contestants were massive beluga people. My buggy was full, the net was full of brains and the den was stuffed with nothing but mane hair. I ate the whole pride. Stupid lions should not have tried to sneak up on me and my rats.

I was destined for Gibsons, so I was staying in the hotel in Horsehoe Bay, so to be there for the early ferry, so at 5:30 AM wake-up time is perfect.

I then drove to Tsawassen ferry terminal, overwhelmed by fatigue. I was weaving in and out of traffic, falling asleep at the wheel on three different highways.

I get to the ferry terminal and sleep until staff had to wake me. Then staff had to wake me to get off the ferry. Then I weaved down the Pat Bay Hwy towards home. I then sauntered (leaving everything in the truck) and fell into bed and slept for 23 hours.

I am only now 1/2 coherent and lucky to be alive.