"Anxiety Girl! Able to jump to the worst conclusion in a single bound!"

 Last night, after a long, long day of packing, McKay single-handedly moving a three-person couch by himself (I'm married to Superman, I know), and getting heatstroke, McKay went out for a guy's night that he completely, and without question, deserved. He told me he would probably only go for a few hours, and I waved him off, telling him to enjoy himself, but TRY NOT TO BE OUT PAST MIDNIGHT because staying in our new place alone felt a little freaky (heavy foreshadowing, much?).

  The time went by quickly at first, texting awesome friends from high school and preparing my lesson for CTR 4's. Around 11:00, I decided to start watching The Man Who Knew Too Little, mostly for the noise so I'd stop listening so hard for any suspicious wailing that might indicate ghosts. Midway through the show, I spotted a bug on my shoulder, immediately causing a minor heart attack.

  The show ends. My computer says it's close to midnight, and my cell phone is dead. My charger is in the suitcase McKay forgot to bring over from the old apartment and is going to be bringing any minute once his guy's night was over. I start reading Mockingjay for the fourth time.

  A hundred pages into Mockingjay, McKay is not home. I can't call to see if the guy's night is still going on (due to the dead cell phone), and, besides, McKay accidentally left HIS phone in a friend's truck this afternoon during the move and I don't know any of the other guy's phone numbers. Panic is setting in. I see McKay falling asleep at the wheel, in a burning crash, at the hospital, unable to remember my number to have someone call me because who knows phone numbers by heart anymore? I go back to our old apartment, get my suitcase, plug in cell phone.

  No messages. I text the wife of someone McKay's out with. No reply. Perhaps she's already at the hospital because all the men were in some horrible frisbee-related accident?

  I go back to the new apartment. Despite desperate hopes, McKay's car is not there. It is now 2:30 AM. McKay does not stay up til 2:30 AM. Ever. It's unusual if he makes it til 11:30.

  The undeniable truth sinks in: I'm a widow. A pregnant widow, in a town with very few friends and zero family. I will be alone the rest of my life, because what man wants to marry a sealed, young widow with a baby? No one, that's who. Maybe I'll never find out what happened to McKay. Maybe he got kidnapped by crazed drugged teenagers who killed him and had him buried in an orchard somewhere. I'm alone. So alone. I'll always be alone now. I consider calling around the local hospitals, but I don't know their numbers, and I don't have internet at the new apartment.

  3:00 AM. McKay comes home. "Where the heck have you BEEN??!" I shout (as much as I shout, anyway). He's lucky I don't curse, but as it's technically Sunday, that feels especially wrong.

  "I didn't notice the time." He says lamely.

  That man is lucky to be alive. And not because he didn't fall asleep at the wheel. Hell hath no fury indeed, Mr. Shakespeare. Actually, I just googled it, and Shakespeare did NOT write that. It was William Congreve, whoever the heck that is. It's one of those things, like how Sherlock never actually said, "Elementary, dear Watson" and Humphrey Bogart never said, "Play it again, Sam". Anyway, although I was relieved beyond description that he was alive, McKay came very close to being murdered last night.

  Love is sometimes wanting to strangle and hug a person at the same time.