The sky is falling

Really.

This is not an attempt to be dramatic, of which I know I am habitually prone.

The sky is literally falling down. And by sky I mean the sky in my bedroom...which would be my ceiling.

My celing is falling down, over my bed, while I am in it.

Case in point.....

This would be a large chunk of paint that decided to come crashing down for no apparent reason while I was laying in bed last night reading with Anna cozied up beside me. It narrowly just missed her head. (thankfully my camera was handy on my side table right next to me to document this newsworthy event) After I felt the inexplicable thump onto the bed, and saw Anna smelling something at her paws, I looked up and saw this...

a gaping bare spot on my ceiling where the paint used to live.

I'm not really sure what to make of this. I've never lived in a house where the paint just randomly fell in chunks off the ceiling. But then again I've never lived in a house where I've experienced half the things I do here....so I'm just gonna chalk up this random paint falling episode to more weird African House Syndrome.