Gives one pause...

I was woken up out of a sound sleep at 1:22 am by my cellphone ringing. After the disorientation and the heart-pounding comes the lying-there period where I negotiate with myself about whether I'm going to actually get up to see who it was. I can tell from the beeps that the person didn't leave me a voicemail message. That's good, right? If it was someone who really wanted me, they'd leave me a voicemail. If it was someone who knows me really well and it was really, REALLY important, they'd call my landline. Right?

But it's an edgy feeling. You lie there and think about all of the bad news it could be; especially when your brain is kind of in that place already. What now?

Get up to look; don't recognize the number. Ugh. Go back to sleep.

Now here's the slightly unsettling part, although not for the reason you might think. This morning, I put the phone number into Google. And there she is: my wrong-number caller. Her name, her address. Click a link, and I'm looking at a satellite image of her HOUSE. (She's lucky; streetview hasn't quite gotten to her area yet.)

Now THAT is freaky.

(Yes, I then went and googled my own phone numbers. Nothing comes up for them. Good.)