If I'd known what it was, I would have gotten the loud knocking, still in pajamas or not, and hopefully diverted all of this. But I, being clueless–and in those aforementioned pajamas–left whoever was knocking to come to the conclusion no one was home, and let them leave.
Then, since I was now awake, and nothing was–unfortunately–going to change that fact anytime soon, despite how poorly I'd slept the night before, I got up, and got ready. Dressed, hair wet, and contacts in, it struck me that I should probably go check if the people who had woken me up this morning had left something taped to my door, or on my step.
So, with almost no concern, I sauntered to my front door, and pulled it open. A large box, almost seven feet long, lay there. It was lucky that I was on the top floor, and no one lives in the apartment just across the small landing, because there would be no way for them to get inside their door. Still, it didn't stop me from groaning in anticipatory recognition.
Of course I recognized the box. How could I not? I was friends with both of the interesting individuals who came up with the idea of the plushies in the first place, after all. Apparently, it was time I joined the fun.
I was doomed.
Thankfully though, I was less doomed than I could have been. The Valar (or Duilin) must have taken pity on me, because none of my roommates were home. One had just moved out, and the other had gone back home for a week and a half, leaving me on my own.
Which was a very good thing, because while my remaining roommate had seen Lord of the Rings, she had never read the books, and I'm not sure she had even heard of the Silmarillion. Explaining this to her would have been a challenge I did *not* want to have to deal with.
Not to mention she flirts with almost anything male that will stay still long enough for her to talk to. While that had the potential to be amusing, it also had the potential to be mentally scaring, or slightly dangerous, if I'd gotten one of the more touchy characters.
But all these thoughts came later. The only coherent thought I had as I was staring at that box was:
There goes my week.