My Brain Turns to Mush Before Your Very Eyes
I fed my boyfriend a bottle of champagne and now he's asleep on top of the covers, fully dressed. With all the lights on. He was listening to me explain my packing choices when he dozed off. I think the drugs will work on him tomorrow afterall.
If you're new here, you should know that I am not just fantastic at getting out of bed on time. (And so I am late to work every day.) Frankly, I'm actually really bad at it.
And so, it is customary for me to be so worried about oversleeping and missing my flight that I do not sleep a wink the night before. This is how housework gets done. It might also be noted that I am terrified of flying. Terrified enough that I had to make three trips to the bathroom while inside the store trying to buy something to settle my stomach. I am a very glamorous traveller.
I also can't go to sleep because I have absolutely no idea how long it takes me to get out the door on a normal day (see also: my average arrival time at work), let alone on a day when I will be extra sad if I forget one of the many and various electronic devices that are charging throughout the house or forget to feed the cat.
You might think that I should do all of those things now, but then I'd have extra time on my hands and I have been seriously considering getting professional help for my inability to cope with time on my hands. What would I do if it was ten minutes before we are supposed to leave and everything was packed up and just ready to go? (See also: I am late to everything every damned day because the idea of sitting and waiting for anything for a minute might make my head explode.)
Today I read Girl Clown. I came home from the dermatologist, and I picked up the packages we've had sitting in the office and when I got home I thought I would go shopping and stuff, but instead I read my new book. It was really good.
What else can I tell you? I need to take up more time. I packed. Already. I have approximately six and a half hours to go and I am packed. I haven't packed any underwear yet because all my preferred underwear is in the dryer.
I am kinda tired... but what time do I need to wake up? How much earlier do I have to set the alarm clock to wake up in time to get everything done? These are questions I can't answer about the mornings I have five times a week. So. That's tricky. I just need to not sleep.
Yeah, you might think Steady is going to help me wake up. He is considerably less excited about air travel than I am. So, he might well wake up, see the alarm clock, poke me once, and then later respond to my screaming about missed planes by saying that he tried to wake me up and I'm mean when someone tries to wake me up and it's not his fault. He might not. But I'd rather not find out.
Dermatologist says Mary Ann May Not Eat Tomatoes Ever. I am very sad about this.
Okay, so I am going to stop this nonsense now. I need to go find something else to entertain myself with now. The dryer is finished and I can pack my underwear finally.
Wish us luck tomorrow! I have to be twenty-six on Saturday. Cross your fingers for no snow in Lexington or Cincinnati...
posted by mary ann 12:25 AM