I need blood drawn in an hour. I should not go back to bed or I will blow it off. This will be the most boring post ever. Maybe I should not write it, as it might put me to sleep, too.
Last night was a long night. They're all long, but this was worse.
It may have been because I dared to drink a Diet Coke at 5pm. Ted had a flat tire, I went to meet him, traffic was exceedingly backed up, so we hung out at Wendy's. BTW, their new chunky chicken salad sandwich - skip it. Vanilla Frostie - keeper. I got myself one, then bribed my late ass back into J's good graces with one and the frozen goodness was declared to be better than McDon.ald's.
Each time (twice?) I thought to doze off, I got noise. Once, Memphie, who has basically been a floor and bed cat, something for which me and my piles been very grateful, decided to jump onto my tall dresser. This is where I dump my scads of cheap silver jewelry I purchased off ebay. Much is now behind said dresser. I'll be more pissed when I can't find anything. No energy to be pissed now. Maybe it scared him enough to not try it again.
Many hours later, I fell asleep around 7am. At 8am, Ted called. In my grogginess, I could not find the phone, because duh! it was charging on the hook. I didn't bother to try to call him back. I fell asleep for my last precious 20 minutes, which snoozed into 30. I'd called him twice last evening per the plan and, of course, he never answered.
Sporadic naps is how my night often goes. I never got over responding to and keeping a baby's schedule. I should keep a log and talk about how boring it is to be computing instead of sleeping at 3am. I bet I knew before any of you that Johnny Cash's old house, turned BeeGee uninhabited abode, turned pile of ash, is now just a couple chimneys. Yeah, lucky with the news, I am. We finally saw Walk the Line last week, so the news stands out.
Writing now also is keeping me from eating, except these Jelly Bellys next to me are calling loudly. I only have to fast for the bloodwork a little while longer. I hope the statin has lowered my cholesterol into just being closer to normal; I hate that drug. You're supposed to take it in the evening and it gives me heartburn; last night it was nausea. Yuck. I'll learn my TSH soon, too. I see my psych dr on Friday and forgot (read: licked my fingers when I was fasting, then it was a snow day the next day) and didn't do it last month.
I do have a bit of good news. Last evening, I went through some piles of papers and threw a bunch of useless crap away. I am very proud to be motivated to make a dent, particularly as terminally tired as I've been. Maybe it was the evening caffeine, a double-edged sword? Anyway, being motivated to actually look at unopened envelopes made me realize a few things. I actually have 1200 minutes on my cell phone rolled over. Jeez, Crick, use the thing!
And all this sparse living (excepting vet bills) has left me a tiny bit of money in the bank and I may splurge on a $100 art class in the coming months. In a course outline I found, there's a colored pencil class and I have been dying to learn how to use this fancy 70some set of Prismacolor I bought off ebay last year. I think I can work the timing of it with ex having J. Further, my previous art teacher, who I like as a person but she drives me crazy as a teacher, is doing a workshop soon and I am even considering that; it's largely during the school day.
Art is good for the soul, even if I could use the same money (almost doubled) to buy some sleeping medicine from Canada to make life ever so much easier, even if it does increase the risk of diabetes and my glucose was a little elevated a few months ago, but I will have a guage on my glucose level again after today.
Maybe taking a class is good for sleep.
Maybe just the prospect of taking a class is good for sleep.