Why, oh why, am I up at 5:26 a.m. when, really, I don’t need to be at work until sometime between 9:00 and oh-crap-my-boss-beat-me-to-work o’clock? I have several theories:
1) Like a good mother hen, I finished packing up my coworkers and sending them off to NAB yesterday, complete with printing itineraries, assuaging first-time-flyer fears, and taking care of last-minute details like calling Evil Credit Card Company and making sure they won’t shut off our company cards because of “suspicious activity” during a stint of big-ticket purchases in Las Vegas. (In fairness, if I were Evil Credit Card Company, and someone was using the company credit card for big-ticket purchases in Las Vegas, I would dutifully assume that the CEO had run amok and shut off the card too.) Now, at 5:31 a.m., I am experiencing post-stress. If I had eaten anything yesterday but a bag of popcorn and an Arby’s roast beef and cheese, I’d probably be having digestive problems too.
2) I had a dream that my dead dog Ramona and my not-dead dog Sally were playing in the back yard when I realized there were three other dogs back there too. One of them was a really big and scary German Shepherd-looking thing and it growled menacingly at Sally, the sweetest most submissive doggie in the whole wide world. (When she barks, she sounds like she’s demurely asking you to pass the salt or something.) Sally, in the dream, proceeded to run back to the safety of the garage and expose her belly to me, proving her submissiveness. When I woke up, That Guy I Married was snoring, in around the same timbre as a huge German Shepherd menacing growl. So I got up. At 4:23.
3) I’m starving. Apparently a bag of popcorn and an Arby’s roast beef and cheese is not enough to hold you over until a decent hour the next morning.
4) I went to bed at 10:30 last night because there was nothing good on TV and it was ticking me off.
Sooo, am I going to take advantage of my early hour of consciousness and go to a 6 a.m. Pilates class at the gym? Nope. I’m going to sit on my butt and blog, and maybe bang out a few more pages of my novel, which I should really entitle something catchy and ingenious. Any ideas? I guess it would help if you knew the plot, but I’m not giving that away, so you’ll have to take a shot in the dark. Just aim at a non-fatal knee-cap level and we’ll all be fine.
Technorati tags: Insomnia
It’s really kind of pretty. It has some old flowers and moss and pine needles. I’m wondering if I can, you know, sell it on eBay or something.
And guess what guess what! We went back to the Nora Roberts nursery today and I bought some petunias and put them in my front window box. Weee!
They’re “wave” petunias (which, from what I gather, is a new breed) and they’ll kind of cascade out of the box and not grow upwards so that I can still open my kitchen windows. Yay!
Any suggestions on what I should plant to grow on those trellises? I was thinking of yellow jasmine.
