Didn’t sleep a wink…

…last night.  Or at least it felt like it.  I obviously did, because I dreamed, but I’m sure I spent equal time asleep and awake.  You know that feeling when you’re worried you won’t wake up for something important, so you fret about it all night?  Yeah.  That was last night.  What was my something important?  Showering.

I shower at night.  I hate showering in the morning.  It doesn’t “wake me up” or “energize me.”  It makes me cranky because I have to wake up early.  And since I refuse to wake up much earlier, I end up going to work with wet hair.  I also hate blow drying hair.  A lot.

I’d put off showering all weekend because I was running around.  I was determined to shower last night, but The Hippy and his dad had to shut the water off to fix something in the renter’s bathroom.  By the time the water was turned back on, it was late and I didn’t feel like being in the shower or just getting out of the shower as his dad was leaving.  So I decided I would shower this morning.

All night I was dreaming about waking up or my alarm or showering.  I heard my alarm go off in one dream, so of course I woke up.  Checked the time… I still had two hours to sleep.  I don’t know where my alarm sound came from–that typically only happens in a dream when the sound is actually occurring in real life.  Then later I dreamt I was at work about to go on my 15 minute break.  So I told my boss I had to hurry so I could hop in the shower.  Apparently in dreamland, everyone showers at work, because no one was at all shocked.  So I went to the break room to eat something first, but apparently everyone else in the room was finishing up eating the same time I was, and they all had to pee.

Suddenly the coworker I was talking to turned into my old college roommate.  She told me that there was another shower “not in the room, but in the room.”  Thoroughly confused, I left the breakroom/dorm area and promptly woke up.  It was still awhile before my alarm would go off, so I spent the rest of the time tossing and turning.  I am now successfully showered, but entirely uninterested in going to work.  Of course, this *is* supposed to be my day off.  Stupid craft sale on Saturday cutting into my time off.


Twenty-twenty-twenty four hours…

My New Year’s Eve started at 5am and ended at 5am.  Awesome.  Now that’s what I call a party.

Beginning: I need to learn to let go.  I find it impossible to take a vacation from work because I trust very few people to do my job right.  Not that I think my job is hard or special, mind you, I just don’t think they have the time to care.  Before promotion I was doing two jobs–my old job and my current job.  I felt like I was doing it all the time.  You’d think I’d feel less stressed out now that I’m back to just one job, but I’m not.  At least not lately.  Communication has plummeted, and it resulted in me accidentally finding out I not only had to change the entire apparel department, but I had to mark down all the old stuff before the beginning of FM Jan (Jan 4).  So I got up at 5 to get as much done a possible, and stayed an hour late for the same.  I was actually able to call in the one person I trust, no matter how suspiciously, which meant I didn’t have to stay three hours late….  I will go in on Saturday for the markdown, meaning that I went from a 30 hour week to “holy crap, I can’t stay anymore or I’ll go into OT!”

Pre-Middle: I went to Target after work to get supplies.  Also looked for shoes and socks, because who doesn’t love shoes and socks.  Discovered these:


Aside from being ridiculously cute… and clearance… and not in my size… They’re also lined with one of my favorite Alexander Henry fabrics of all time.  I know it’s hard to see, but I have proof of its existence outside of the shoe and inside of my stash:


Must find those shoes…….

Middle: The best, best, best part of New Years Eve is fondue.  Everyone should do the ‘due.  I don’t care if it’s cheese, oil, or chocolate, it should be mandatory.  I do not, however, recommend combining any of those unless, perhaps, over the course of an entire day.  Certainly don’t attempt it in one evening.  I know this from experience.  New this year was tempura batter and parboiled potatoes.  When BILOSORD’s buddy accidentally added his potato to the pot without battering it, twice fried potatoes were born.  And eaten repeatedly.  I breifly considered getting more potatoes from the kitchen, but I figured we had to cut outselves off somewhere.  This is the first time that I can remember that fondue didn’t end with someone (me….) laughing so hard they (I….) cried.  We stopped because we ran out of cheese and potatoes.  And room in our stomachs.  We were all pretty tired, though.

I passed out on the couch after dinner, and I pretty sure after Rocket Puppy was sent to bed, Rocketdog passed out for a bit too.  I headed home, intending to go to bed, shortly after the ball dropped (…the tape delayed ball).

The End: When I got home, The Hippy IMed me to see if I had gotten his text message, and was apparently bummed that I didn’t respond.  What I didn’t know was that I hadn’t gotten the message, and thought he was talking about something entirely different.  Twenty minutes later, it showed up.  I decided the message couldn’t find me because I was driving.  I turned right, and it kept going straight.  Silly text message.  But what followed was one of the longest, most awesome philosophical discussions we’ve ever had.  “We’re going to be living together and sharing everything, so I might as well tell you what I believe.”  Which is not to say he hadn’t told me before, it was just a much deeper and livelier discussion.  When my alarm clock went off, I knew it was probably time to go to bed.  Call me crazy, but I’m a sucker for talking to him.  The first time we ever chatted with each other, I only got a couple hours of sleep.  I’m looking forward to not having to chat online (both of us hate the phone).

And now I get to go move.  Right now.  Literally.  Five hours of sleep!  wooooo!  Actually, I think I’m going to eat some potatoes first 🙂

And in the end…

I have officially given up on the idea of fall.  There was snow on the ground when I woke up this morning.  Granted, it has since melted, but it’s bitter and wet out, and it’s been alternating between rain and snow all day.

It’s certainly a hot chocolate type of day.  It’s also a very tired type of day.  These last couple of weeks I’ve been trying to balance working early mornings and still getting to talk to The Hippy.  He doesn’t get home until after 9 most nights, and ideally my bedtime would be 10.  But lately it’s been 11 or 12.  And tomorrow I need to get up equally as early for a craft sale.  I’m at my breaking point sleep-wise.  I couldn’t stay asleep last night, and I’ve been feeling it all day.  Unfortunately, I’m not a napper.  I’m really good at sleeping when I’m not supposed to be–movie watching, reading a book, over at Rocketdog’s, knitting…  But when the lights go out and my head hits the pillow, I feel like my bed is made entirely of bricks and my knee bones have been replaced with spikes.

I want so desperately to just say “You know what?  I love you and I miss you terribly, but if you wake me up tonight, I might kill you.”  But I’m a pushover.  He’ll wake me, and I’ll get up to chat with him.  Because I love him and I miss him terribly.  It wouldn’t be a huge deal, but I have to bowl tonight.  It’s not as if I can spend a quiet evening laying around napping a bit here, there, and everywhere.

So instead of napping, I’m sitting here watching Paula Deen make this recipe (and this one too!) and contemplating making some popcorn and hot chocolate.  It’s a hot chocolate day, y’all.

ETA: I just re-read this, and had absolutely no idea while I was writing it that I wrote it’s a hot chocolate day at the beginning AND the end.  I told you it was also a tired day.

Indulging in myself…

I was tagged by fuzfrenzy for this little meme, but I’m afraid the buck stops here. I don’t know seven other bloggers (at least who haven’t already been tagged), so I won’t be tagging anyone, but I will gladly respond. So, may I introduce Seven Things About ME!

1. I use a shaving brush when I shave my legs.

2. Since switching to the shaving brush, I have cut myself more than I have previously in my entire life. I can’t explain this.

3. I can throw back an embarrassing amount of snow crab legs.

4. I’m addicted to Canadian Teenage Dramas (three links). God bless The N.

5. I eat popcorn approximately five days a week.

6. I feel guilty if I sleep past 8am. I still do it, but I feel horribly guilty.

7. I have toyed with the idea of a million professions. The only two I regret giving up are choir director (or voice instructor) and chef.