Last night I had horrific insomnia.
Ugh, 3:30 AM.
WTF, 4:30 AM?
No. Fucking. Way. 5:30 AM.
Yes, it sucked. It sucked donkey balls.
Made me so very tired that I could hardly function, which wouldn't have been so bad except every once in a while I'd think I was o.k., and then I'd start doing something, like browning a roast to put in the oven, and then I'd go to the bathroom, and while I was peeing, I'd notice I need a bath mat and then think: I should run a load of laundry, so I'd head down to the laundry room and realize I had already run a load of laundry, so I'd switch loads and run the bath mats and then head upstairs and smell burning and think What the hell? and then realize I was burning my roast, so I'd drop my laundry basket and then look at the pan and realize it wasn't the roast, it was the seasonings, and maybe cajun roast would make a good meal? Remember when that was all the rage? Mmmm . . . burnt food.
I'll let you know how it came out.
At that point, I ended up laying down because I was tired and BECAUSE I COULD. I didn't sleep very well or for very long, because I'm not a napper - when the girl was born and they kept on with that bullshit about sleeping when the baby sleeps, I ended up reading the paper and then being INSANE with tiredness [also INSANE with the crazy] kind of like I am right now - but I did doze off finally, I think, because I also did the snort - guh - jerk around thing you do when you wake up. So, I had been sleeping. QED, bitches. Q. E. Motherfucking. D.
Then the Jehova's Witnesses showed up - Remember how I had an aneurysm that one time and told them my name? - Now it's like we're BFFs, seriously, it's all, "Hey, Suniverse, how are you? We haven't caught you in a while [caught in a RELIGIOUS TRAP], but it's good to see you and can I give you this pamphlet that has Good News?" And it's two of the oldest women in history who are accosting me, so I can't be [that] rude, and I don't even know how they managed to get up the front porch steps so I want them to take a minute and catch their breath so that they can make it back down, so I just smile and say, "Sure, I'd love some Good News!" and take their magazine and then leave it laying around in the living room next to my BITCHfest book [which was prominently displayed on the front door table, so maybe that will curtail future visits] because I like the contrast. Also, it freaks out the people who come over and don't know us that well. Man, those visits are short.