Oh, I had plans for last night. Water the seeds, check the gardens for weeds, pay the bills, pull together a real meal for myself, comb the cats (one of whom left two rather spectacular hairballs for me to clean up in the middle of the carpet yesterday). But no, these didn't happen. I got home, unloaded the diswasher, loaded the dishwasher, and checked the garden quickly. Yesterday's light rain was enough to keep the soil fairly moist, so I didn't have to water. I decided I was too tired to do anything else, so I ate a grapefruit and showered, took a sleeping pill and went to bed. I woke up briefly to realize that The Kitten had curled up next to my legs on the bed. I had the bedroom door shut, so she must have squished in under the door; I'd been hoping she'd gotten too big for that trick, but apparently not. I then slept solidly until the alarm rang at 6:30.
When I woke up, The Socialist was in bed and The Kitten was gone. My guess is that he removed said Kitten when he came home, though I have absolutely no recollection of that. It's nice to know the sleeping pill will work once in a while.