Oh my!

So here I am, staying home from work today because I feel like crap. Should make for a quiet day, right?

HAH. This is Casa Zen-Samoa we're talking about here. After having called off and crawled back in bed to suck my thumb, I woke up about 10 and checked my voicemail. There was one. "Curse you people!", I thought, thinking it was work.

It was not. It was a long, rambling message from someone named "Marsha". I know no Marsha, so I knew it had to be a wrong number, but the content of the message was rather disturbing. She seemed to be whispering, and she was concerned that someone named "John" was going to do her harm. This was quite enough for ol' Zen to get on the horn to the non-emergency number of the police department. Since my caller ID coughed up the number she was calling from, they were able to trace Marsha's whereabouts. Seems, in the end, that Marsha was in a place of safety, and was attempting to call relatives from thence. She was admonishing them not to advise John of her whereabouts.

So, all's well that ends well. But good Lord, it's not even noon!