I had just slipped into bed, removed my glasses, turned out the light, moved the dog/space heater to my husband's side of the bed, said a prayer, poked one leg out from under the covers to act as my thermostat and finally closed my eyelids.
Zzz...or so I thought.
Jerk. Sputter. Clink. Grind. Purr. And the wheels in my head are turning again despite my effort to shut them down. My body, however, refuses to acknowledge my mind's sudden interest in moving full steam ahead and rolls over. But the sputtering and clinking are just too loud to bear. My body, being the sane one here, screams at my mind to shut down and go to sleep. After all, it's 9:30 and already a half hour past bedtime. My mind, being the persistent and insane one, fights back and argues that she has some ideas for a good blog post and needs my body to get up and assist her. However, my body is stubborn and doesn't budge. At this point and for the purpose of this story, I'll refer to my body as "Sane" and my mind as "Insane." (Note: I do recognize that both are me and, therefore, I am them. Thus, proving that I talk to myself and giving away the fact that I should probably be telling this to a shrink rather than you poor souls). Anyway, Insane gives Sane the stink eye and protests that she is really onto something and needs Sane to get out of bed and grab the laptop. Sane shivers at the thought and declares that Insane is going to have to do this one alone because she's opting for sleep. Insane ponders her options and decides to mentally write her post, save it and restore it later when Sane is more willing to help. And so Insane starts her brilliant post. Type. Type. Type.
Zzz.
Jerk. Sputter. Clink. Grind. Purr. A groggy Sane abruptly opens her eyelids to find darkness and the sound of the oscillating fan. Struggling to grasp what time it is and what has woken both her and Insane up, she squints at the clock only to find that it's 12:30. Remembering that Insane had been pestering her hours ago about some stupid blog post, she realizes that this brilliant idea of Insane's had followed Insane into what would have been REM land and annoyingly nudged her until both her and Sane were fully awake. Hence, the wheels in Insane's mind were spinning on all cylinders again and she was not going to doze off unexpected this time. Sane is furious at this point and explains to Insane that sleep is a gift from God and this is one gift they should not refuse. But it's too late. Insane is already typing. An hour later, Insane finishes her post and puts her mental laptop away and goes to bed.
It's the next day and Sane and Insane come together as one again and head to the
real laptop. The sparring match is over and they can finally put Insane's mental blog post in writing. Sane's army patiently awaits on the computer's home keys for Insane's commands. Blink. Blink. Blink. Insane blushes, gathers her tail that's now between her legs and tries to distract Sane with the thought of chocolate. Sane screams back that she's not going downstairs for chocolate, that she's staying right here so they can get Insane's so-incredible-that-it-couldn't-wait-until-morning post done and that's where Insane was staying too. Insane can see that Sane is impatient now and has to think quick. Insane tries to persuade Sane into taking a nap because, after all, sleep is a gift from God; right? The dancing around is not fooling Sane and she demands some words to type for the post. Finally, Insane admits defeat and confesses that she has nothing. She can't remember a thing from last night's mental post except that she thinks it had something to do with Kennedy. Sane, being too sane to punch herself, mutters under her breath that Insane is, in fact, insane and reminds her that 99% of her posts are about Kennedy so, of course, it probably had something to do with Kennedy. Insane shrinks down, shrugs and nonchalantly explains that in her attempt to get the mental post done quickly it seems that she forgot to press the save button. Sane is boiling by this point and threatens to down a bottle of wine, telling Insane that that will not only get her to finally shut up and sleep but she'll enjoy watching her throb for the next two days. Insane is speechless. She apologizes and promises to listen to Sane the next time she tells her to shut up and sleep. No more mental posting she says. After an hour of wasted time staring at the computer, Sane and Insane make up and go downstairs for some chocolate.
And here we are now. Unfortunately, no brilliant post for you today, just my thoughts on how we got to this point. But I do have a little piece of advice for you. If you're ever laying in bed and your mind won't let you sleep because it's pondering it's next blog post, either a) get out of bed, grab your laptop and appease the persistent booger or b) get out of bed and take a sedative...that'll shut it up and you'll be sleeping in no time.
Look at those mischievous eyes saying "Yes, Momma, I a big girl now and taught myself how to sit up."
Glad I caught her before she decided it was time to stand.
No, my friend did not give me Kennedy. But if you have the strength to take your eyes off her sweet face, take a look at what she's wearing. Ah, yes, the sweet, breathtaking tutu. My friend Stacey sent this to me a few weeks ago. When I opened the package and the tutu danced out, I admit it was love at first sight. I'm a little miffed, though. Why did Stacey fail to make one in my size? She probably knew I'd never take it off and was saving me from awkward moments at the grocery store, dry cleaners, church, etc. Regardless of her reason, I'm so thankful that Stacey finally got her groove back and is once again crafting. So thank you, Stacey, for such a thoughtful, sweet and extremely perfect tutu for little miss thing.
Miya, oh Miya
