The Weary
Many moons ago, operating under severe sleep deprivation amidst the throes of potty training a puppy, I recall being mystified in the basement in the middle of the night when I couldn't figure out how to turn off the overhead light. In that moment, it seemed the only logical way to "turn on the dark" was to unscrew the lightbulb, though an oven mitt eluded me. That is correct. I had the wherewithal to know I needed to protect my hand, but wasn't discriminating enough to consider using the light switch. The same light switch with which I initially illuminated the room.
For the most part, I can rein in these deprivation-fueled antics.
Sure, shortly after Merritt was born I found myself in public, wearing him, in one such haze. That's when a kindly 90-something-year-old woman peeked in at him and commented on how sweet he appeared and I responded with, "You know. Just keepin' it real." Then I walked away mouthing that same line back to myself, trying to figure out what I'd just said.
And yes, our The New York Times Sunday Crossword Omnibus is peppered with quotes Erin has scribbled in as I actually do fall asleep (while my jaw still flaps nonsense).
I was going to drink a bottle of wine 'cause you went to the courthouse.
IDAHO!
This is one of those where if you have a washing machine ...Have at it, sleep-talking analysts.
But seriously. I'm a highly functioning human for the amount of time I spend staring at the ceiling each night.
So it was a little startling this morning when I wandered into the kitchen to fix Merritt his morning bottle and discovered that someone had broken into our house and stolen our only (BRAND NEW) gallon of whole milk. It was my first thought. And I'm fairly certain I thought it for more seconds than are generally acceptable in that circumstance. As in, it took an exceptionally long time for me to figure out that upon opening that brand new gallon of milk for the random middle of the night bottle, I just casually left the jug on the counter. Marinating. Ruined. Without any help from intruders.
I swear I used to be good at this sleep thing.
1 comment:
I no longer consider myself to be highly functioning. I settle for semi functioning these days, and H-mo sleeps thru the night. It's just the days that have turned my brain to mush. So kudos to you for at least mostly being highly functioning....
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