I eventually fell asleep, but was awakened by what I thought was the sound of rain drops falling on the tent. Blurry eyed, unbespectacled, and blinded by my upside-down headlamp I yanked the rainfly out of my pillow sack, unzipped the tent, put my flip flops on the wrong feet, hauled myself to my feet, and nearly fell over staggering with the unexpected change of altitude and stiff unresponsive legs. By the time I regained my balance I couldn't remember why I was awake. There was no rain, I observed, so what I heard was probably some acorns, or maybe I had dreamed the noise.We are practically twins....aren't we. Except that he is a little bit nerdy.
I flopped back in the tent and fell back asleep just long enough for it to start raining. I repeated the drill and got the fly on in no time flat. It wasn't until I was back under the vestibule trying to get the roof vent propped open that I noticed the stupid thing was on inside out. I hope the sound of the rain muffled my curses enough to keep Otto from picking up any of my uncharacteristically foul language. At that point the outside of the fly was already wet, and I groggily calculated that reversing the fly would get the tent damper than risking whatever wetness would leak through the flapless zippers and inside out vent. After that the sound of the rain masked the sound of the critters and breaking twigs and the rainfly restricted our view so both Otto and I slept more comfortably, but I still had scary dreams about tents, and being in tents, and not being able to get out of tents, and things coming into tents, and stuff happening outside of tents, and tents just plain not working the way they are supposed to.