So, I think I may be experiencing a little guanomania. I heard lack of sleep can do that to a person. I’ve been getting 3-4 hours a day for a couple weeks now, and it’s possible I might start talking to trees or looking in the sky for the mother ship.
My hours changed at the first of the year. I was working 8pm-8am on Saturday and Sunday nights, plus a couple 2nd shifts Tuesday and Wednesday. Now I work 12am-8am all through the week and have Friday and Saturday nights off, which is great, right?
The problem is, I CAN’T SLEEP.
Ideally, I should sleep while the kids are in school and the house is quiet, and spend time with Tom and the boys in the evenings. Except instead of sleeping, I lay there and stare at the ceiling with eyes wide open, counting cobwebs and mentally rearranging all the furniture and making an invisible grocery list and writing blog posts in my head. I do this until the sun starts going down and then sleep fitfully a few hours while everyone is home. Which means that I’ve spent ALL DAY LONG in bed, only slept a few hours, and have gotten JACK SHIT accomplished. The house is a mess, the boys aren’t getting their homework and chores done, Mount Laundry is growing exponentially, and I’m misplacing my feces.
NOT GOOD, mah peepull.
I’ve tried diphenhydramine, adv1l pm, trazadone; cutting caffeine and sugar; not eating before and filling up before; blankets over the windows and a sleep mask. I’m at my wit’s end, but then again, I didn’t really have far to go, now, did I?
In other news, I’m almost done with the front of my quilt. It’s so cool to see it all coming together. When I finish the front, I’ll get a pic put up. Then it’s time to do the actual quilting, sewing three layers together. Technically, all I’ve been doing the last few months is sewing. It’s not really quilting until you’re sewing through actual layers.
I put you to sleep just then, didn’t I?
In the dating and personals section, I bring you news of Rocky’s first hickey. Or should I say HICKIES. That’s right; plural. He came home from his girlfriend’s house with HICKIES. Tom’s jaw dropped and he said, “She better have punched you in the neck a couple times, there, Sparky.” He had to wear a turtleneck to church on Sunday. We had a TALK.
In Home & Garden, I emptied every single cupboard in the kitchen, washed the shelves, and put it all back, mostly in different places. This because I opened the cupboard and an avalanche of Tupperware came tumbling out and trapped me underneath. I narrowly escaped calling in a rescue squad. Behold the carnage, mid-project.
It wasn’t quite done when Tom got home from work, and I feared there may be a very real danger of his head exploding. Then I’d have something else to clean up! However, his head, is, in fact, intact. For now, anyway.
From our arts department, I’ve been redesigning the shelter’s resident intake packet. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me to have a designing project! I almost forgot how great it is to get into The Zone, lose a few hours, and experience that creative rush.
And now, Teh Wether.
ENOUGH, WINTER. SNOW– YOU HAZ IT. We got it. You can stop ANYTIME now.
I found a pic of a big bowl of stew to go along with this theme. I’m going to cut Tom and I and the boys out of other pictures and put them in the stew. Someday.
Rip it, roll it, and punch it, dude. Don’t forget to rinse your bowl and put it in the dishwasher. Do I have MAID tattooed on my forehead? No; no, I most certainly do not.