In my best Stewie impersonation - Damn you, Mountain Dew! I had an insomnia attack last night that had me tossing and turning in bed for several hours. Sleep finally came around 4 a.m. I suspect it was the soda I drank around 9 p.m. and I guess in a way I saw the consequences coming. I, however, prefer to blame the husband who was wrapped up in some musical gusto that had him pounding on the keyboard till the wee hours of the morning. What can I say, after one year and four months of marriage, the snoring has become my morphine.
My husband's sympathy to my sleep disorder is best expressed in one word: Okay. As he was five minutes away from going into dreamland, I told him I couldn't sleep. He looked down at me with half-opened eyes and mumbled, "Okay." And promptly started snoring. (In contrast, he shook me up in the middle of the night one time he woke up from a bad dream. Now tell me, where is equality in that?) There is nothing more distressing for the sleep-deprived than to lie down next to someone who can can crash as soon as his head hits the bed.
So, with only three hours of sleep, how did I make it to the end of the day at work? Coffee, Red Bull and Coke, in that order.
All right - the dishes have been washed, the kitchen cleaned and the clothes pressed. I'm plopped down on the couch, revisiting my space on the web. And finally posting something new after nearly two weeks of inactivity. I think I was busy. Let me sum up my typical day with some poignant words from the husband: "You go to work, and then you come home and work for me." Ah, the joys of marriage.
I have become an expert on timed naps. I get on the train in the morning and promptly doze off, waking up right before it's time for me to get off my metro stop. After work, I hop on the bus and take a quick nap en route to home, except when I'm seated next to someone yammering on the phone for the duration of the trip. My first stop when I walk in the door is the kitchen. I cook in heels.
My 30-minute forays in the kitchen are often interrupted by wild stories from a 10-year-old doing fourth grade homework, interspersed with Math problems and grammar questions. Tonight, while chopping up some onions, Re'Sean enthusiastically shared a fictional narrative following this plot: Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader were battling in a galaxy far, far away for a giant tomato.
We are excited about this coming weekend! Re'Sean's basketball team is going to the championships this Saturday. He was a little nervous when they went up against the No. 2 team last weekend but they trounced their opponents quite nicely. It was a good win. And there is nothing like a gym full of proud parents coaching their kids from the sidelines.
I have been duly forewarned that the next few days will be busy at work. I have no complaints though - I'm enjoying what I do. And my mood is getting better and better now that the temperature is slowly beginning to go up. Happy days are here!
What I do miss is time to catch up on "House." Husband and I are hooked on this show - and its egocentric main character - and Discovery's "Survivorman." Les Stroud is THE man. For those of you who are adrenaline junkies or nature explorers, this is the show to watch.
Signing out at 11:22 p.m. Bed time. Good night, folks!