I have all of the eccentricities of a genius, just none of the talent.
Ever wanted to know how to waste an entire night of sleep?
First, when it's an obvious time to actually go to bed, say 10 o'clock pm, go through the entire house and start putting away anything that appears out of place. Put the shoes back nicely on the rug. Take the dirty glasses off the coffee table and put them in the kitchen sink. Decide now would be an appropriate time to scrub off the sticky residue from the side of the kitchen cabinet where twenty years ago one of those pale pink plastic pot holder hooks was once attached and how you've never bothered to try to remove it in the three years you've lived in this house but somehow you must remove it right now this very second.
Rush yourself to bed by eleven o'clock, because now it's getting late, and quickly recognize it is way too flipping hot in the bedroom but also notice how incredibly lazy you actually are so decide to just sweat it out.
Wiggle your feet and start getting fidgety because there is no way you can just fall asleep in a room that's so blasted hot, then try to take your mind off things by turning on the television and waste an hour of your life watching Real Housewives of Orange County.
Secretly admit you love the Real Housewives of Orange County and wish you knew what was going on because you haven't seen it in forever and what is this kiss with Fernanda they keep mentioning??
Watch another hour of TV because you suddenly find it of the utmost importance to find out if Bethenny sells her SkinnyGirl company.
Realize 45 minutes into the show that it's already quarter to one in the morning and hello?! Doesn't someone need to work in the morning?
Snap off TV.
Realize now you'll never know if Bethenny sold her company or not so make a mental note to google it tomorrow.
Get annoyed because your foot really itches and it's way too early for mosquitoes, isn't it? Pretty sure it was a spider that bit you. Probably running around the sheets right now looking for some other flesh to feast off of.
Try not to freak out because there are obviously a thousand spiders taking over your bed trying to suck your blood.
Do spiders suck blood?
Figure out a good game plan would be to touch feet with your sleeping buddy because that way the spiders can walk over from your feet to his feet and eat him.
Finally start drifting to sleep.
Wake up to your sleeping buddy pawing at you. (This is a polite way of saying it's 1:30 in the morning and he wants to "get busy.")
Respond with, "What are you doing?! Don't touch me!"
Have a twenty minute discussion about how it's your fault because you're sending mixed signals by touching his feet in the middle of the night.
Respond with, "So if someone brushes up against you, you automatically think they want to have sex with you?"
Realize that was mean and uncalled for but be way to stubborn to apologize.
Listen to the sounds of him snore.
As you lay wide awake.
Start to think your stomach hurts because it's getting bloated.
Or maybe you're constipated.
Or maybe you have gas.
Or maybe you're exhibiting signs of colon cancer.
Remember that the overall 5-year survival rate is about 64% and start panicking because you are way too young to die and also, even though you write about your children in such a way that might make people think you don't like your children, and also because sometimes you actually say out loud to people that your kids are driving you batty, you actually love your kids very much and don't want to miss out on anything in their lives and want to be there to see them graduate high school, and college, and get married and also go to the theatre and dinner together and then start gasping for air because you're pretty sure a panic attack is headed your way.
Wipe your tears and pray to God that He keeps your family healthy. Including you. Because you don't want to die. Ever. In fact, you want to live to be 103 and really don't care that everyone else thinks that's way too old. Imagine the party you'll get when you turn 100.
Look at the clock and realize it's now three in the morning and you're sweating to death.
Could be because of that window.
Open that sucker.
Start drifting to sleep.
Startle awake when your sleeping partner suddenly sits up in bed and yells, "I don't know what you'd do with 65 bottles of mustard!"
Watch him lay back down.
Start laughing so hard you cry because who does that?
Realize Sleep Talkin' Man does!
Think about how to make a successful blog from sleeping partner's middle of the night rants. But it has to be different than Sleep Talkin' Man because that's been done before.
Start drifting to sleep.
Decide you have to pee.
Choose to wait it out. It's almost morning.
Start drifting to sleep.
Realize you still have to pee. .
Bad.
Get up and go to the bathroom.
Look in the mirror while washing your hands and wonder if you're going to be one of those old women with really, really, really wrinkly skin.
Decide to buy stronger moisturizer.
Go back to bed.
Listen to the clanging of the metal clip against the flagpole next door.
Over.
And over.
And over.
Think about how that would be a creepy scene in a movie. You know, a dark night, lit only by the dim light of the flagpole, a dead body at the base all contorted, silence except for the rhythmic clink. clink. clink. of the metal. And the camera slowly zooms out and upwards towards the still and blackened sky....
Think that's a right creepy image you just had.
Wonder if there's something psychologically wrong with you for thinking such a macabre thought.
Wonder if maybe it wasn't actually a macabre thought at all but rather a vision meant to stir you out of bed and check to see if there is a dead body laying at the base of the neighbor's flagpole so you can contact the police right away in order for them to get important evidence before the morning dew ruins it!
Decide there is no way in hell you are going to look out those curtains to see if there is a dead body in your neighbor's yard because what if the killers are still there and they see you in the window and decide to come kill you.
Lay there wondering if you are a morally deplorable human being for letting some poor woman die a slow and horrific death at the bottom of a flag pole.
Decide it's not worth getting murdered over.
Go to sleep.
Wake up to the alarm two short hours later.
Curse the dawn.
First, when it's an obvious time to actually go to bed, say 10 o'clock pm, go through the entire house and start putting away anything that appears out of place. Put the shoes back nicely on the rug. Take the dirty glasses off the coffee table and put them in the kitchen sink. Decide now would be an appropriate time to scrub off the sticky residue from the side of the kitchen cabinet where twenty years ago one of those pale pink plastic pot holder hooks was once attached and how you've never bothered to try to remove it in the three years you've lived in this house but somehow you must remove it right now this very second.
Rush yourself to bed by eleven o'clock, because now it's getting late, and quickly recognize it is way too flipping hot in the bedroom but also notice how incredibly lazy you actually are so decide to just sweat it out.
Wiggle your feet and start getting fidgety because there is no way you can just fall asleep in a room that's so blasted hot, then try to take your mind off things by turning on the television and waste an hour of your life watching Real Housewives of Orange County.
Secretly admit you love the Real Housewives of Orange County and wish you knew what was going on because you haven't seen it in forever and what is this kiss with Fernanda they keep mentioning??
Watch another hour of TV because you suddenly find it of the utmost importance to find out if Bethenny sells her SkinnyGirl company.
Realize 45 minutes into the show that it's already quarter to one in the morning and hello?! Doesn't someone need to work in the morning?
Snap off TV.
Realize now you'll never know if Bethenny sold her company or not so make a mental note to google it tomorrow.
Get annoyed because your foot really itches and it's way too early for mosquitoes, isn't it? Pretty sure it was a spider that bit you. Probably running around the sheets right now looking for some other flesh to feast off of.
Try not to freak out because there are obviously a thousand spiders taking over your bed trying to suck your blood.
Do spiders suck blood?
Figure out a good game plan would be to touch feet with your sleeping buddy because that way the spiders can walk over from your feet to his feet and eat him.
Finally start drifting to sleep.
Wake up to your sleeping buddy pawing at you. (This is a polite way of saying it's 1:30 in the morning and he wants to "get busy.")
Respond with, "What are you doing?! Don't touch me!"
Have a twenty minute discussion about how it's your fault because you're sending mixed signals by touching his feet in the middle of the night.
Respond with, "So if someone brushes up against you, you automatically think they want to have sex with you?"
Realize that was mean and uncalled for but be way to stubborn to apologize.
Listen to the sounds of him snore.
As you lay wide awake.
Start to think your stomach hurts because it's getting bloated.
Or maybe you're constipated.
Or maybe you have gas.
Or maybe you're exhibiting signs of colon cancer.
Remember that the overall 5-year survival rate is about 64% and start panicking because you are way too young to die and also, even though you write about your children in such a way that might make people think you don't like your children, and also because sometimes you actually say out loud to people that your kids are driving you batty, you actually love your kids very much and don't want to miss out on anything in their lives and want to be there to see them graduate high school, and college, and get married and also go to the theatre and dinner together and then start gasping for air because you're pretty sure a panic attack is headed your way.
Wipe your tears and pray to God that He keeps your family healthy. Including you. Because you don't want to die. Ever. In fact, you want to live to be 103 and really don't care that everyone else thinks that's way too old. Imagine the party you'll get when you turn 100.
Look at the clock and realize it's now three in the morning and you're sweating to death.
Could be because of that window.
Open that sucker.
Start drifting to sleep.
Startle awake when your sleeping partner suddenly sits up in bed and yells, "I don't know what you'd do with 65 bottles of mustard!"
Watch him lay back down.
Start laughing so hard you cry because who does that?
Realize Sleep Talkin' Man does!
Think about how to make a successful blog from sleeping partner's middle of the night rants. But it has to be different than Sleep Talkin' Man because that's been done before.
Start drifting to sleep.
Decide you have to pee.
Choose to wait it out. It's almost morning.
Start drifting to sleep.
Realize you still have to pee. .
Bad.
Get up and go to the bathroom.
Look in the mirror while washing your hands and wonder if you're going to be one of those old women with really, really, really wrinkly skin.
Decide to buy stronger moisturizer.
Go back to bed.
Listen to the clanging of the metal clip against the flagpole next door.
Over.
And over.
And over.
Think about how that would be a creepy scene in a movie. You know, a dark night, lit only by the dim light of the flagpole, a dead body at the base all contorted, silence except for the rhythmic clink. clink. clink. of the metal. And the camera slowly zooms out and upwards towards the still and blackened sky....
Think that's a right creepy image you just had.
Wonder if there's something psychologically wrong with you for thinking such a macabre thought.
Wonder if maybe it wasn't actually a macabre thought at all but rather a vision meant to stir you out of bed and check to see if there is a dead body laying at the base of the neighbor's flagpole so you can contact the police right away in order for them to get important evidence before the morning dew ruins it!
Decide there is no way in hell you are going to look out those curtains to see if there is a dead body in your neighbor's yard because what if the killers are still there and they see you in the window and decide to come kill you.
Lay there wondering if you are a morally deplorable human being for letting some poor woman die a slow and horrific death at the bottom of a flag pole.
Decide it's not worth getting murdered over.
Go to sleep.
Wake up to the alarm two short hours later.
Curse the dawn.
Comments
Also, the first time Ryan and I shared a room at his parents' house overnight he had a dream that I was cheating on him and sat bolt upright in bed and screamed the F word at the top of his lungs. It was a great moment for all.