Mood: Tired but good
Listening to: blowers
Where am I? Work
From Cyn:
Q: How many Bush Administration officials does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: None. There is nothing wrong with the light bulb; its condition is improving every day. Any reports of its lack of incandescence are illusional spin from the liberal media. Illuminating rooms is hard work. That light bulb has served honorably, and anything you say undermines the lighting effort. Why do you hate freedom?
I slept poorly last night, finally waking up int that state of pre-alarm, waiting for the radio to turn on. Opened my eyes to find that Beast wasn't in bed--he was out late last night at volleyball and a meeting, and he occasionally falls asleep elsewhere so as not to bother me--at which point I clearly remember thinking, "Rats, I have to leave this warm bed and go find him so he isn't late for work."
Still drifting, waiting for the alarm. Eventually, I roll over and squint at the clock: 2:18. Well, shoot, I'm wide awake now. Crawl out of bed--because now that I'm awake, I have to pee--crawl back in to my cooling bed. It's cold out and our thermostat is set at 62 overnight.
I'm completely awake: staring blindly into darkness. My feet got cold in the short trip across the room and back. I feel like I just took a No-Doz. OK, so I haul out the clipboard and crosswords, but it's too cold outside the blankets to get comfortable holding everything. If I want a book, I have to get up again. I get up and take a Tylenol PM, but all the good books are downstairs.
My stomach feels empty: I had a bowl of Frosted Flakes and a glass of milk for dinner. And a Cadbury cream egg about an hour later. Do I need to go get some crackers? I decide I'll wake up Beast if I creep through the living room for the Wheat Thins. And I'm not hungry, growling; just empty.
Back to the crossword. My feet are still cold. After about a half an hour of annoyance I give up: maybe the PM will start working soon. My hands and arms are cold from being outside the covers. I shut the light off and roll over, checking the clock as I hunch under the quilt and blanket. It's 2:54.
At 2:56, the bed shifts: Beast comes to bed. After another interminable amount of time, I begin to drift, but sleep seems to arrive only just before his alarm goes off. He shakes me and I grumble but agree to accept that it's morning for real this time. My alarm goes off and he rolls over to turn his off. He stretches and sits up. "Are you going to go back to sleep?" he asks.
"Growfer nowgit fiehg....No." I stagger downstairs to find the last bagel is mushy on one side and stale on the other. Not awake enough to think it through, I toast it while I slug down half a can of Diet Dr. Pepper. Autopilot: cheese the bagel, take the pills. I'm aware enough now to remember how to wash my face, get dressed and maneuver a comb through my hair.
At 7:15 I'm watching Sparky play a new game he's invented involving chess and D&D dice. I have to leave for work. At 7:20, I realize I'm still gaping at the game board from the same spot. Sparky asks me when I'm leaving. I leave as he's putting on his shoes to head to the school bus.
I'm writing this at 9 a.m. I feel like a ferret has moved into my skull cavity. Its tail has taken up residence in my mouth.
Momma NEVER told me there'd be days like this.
Burts Bees makes lip color? Who knew.
No comments:
Post a Comment