Chaos,  HomeLife

why i wasn’t planning to write tonight

Last night I slept about four hours.

I mean, it was the perfect combination to sleeplessness.

Piper was not feeling well.  She was quarantined to the living room just in case and there was no way that little blondie would have made it through the long night flying solo in the living room.

We just have the one sofa.  The one sofa upon which the eight-year-old was lying.  The one sofa that is not an extra long sofa, but a sofa of more moderate lengths.

At first I sat there, working on some editing projects, feet tucked up under myself, quilt on top of both the Willow and the Mommy.  It seemed alright.  Ryder paced the room periodically, assuring himself we were all okay.

My editing work finally completed, I tried to rest my head.  The sofa cushion on the end is pretty battered internally and it feels as hard as any old rock you might imagine would feel. Legs still bent, I pretended that I was comfortable enough.  (I wasn’t.)

Ryder wanted to go outside at some crazy nighttime hour and I stood there, watching him from the window.  The wind was blowing hard.  The temperature was low and I was watching my giant dog just playing outside at one o’clock in the morning.   He didn’t need to use the facilities – that rascal – he just wanted some brisk night air.

The cold sort of woke me up again and I couldn’t sleep.  I watched some ridiculous movie for a bit.  (Whenever I finish my first rant about the rampant addictive use of cell phones for adults, I think I’ll next write about the subpar movies being produced today as well.  Junk.  Absolute junk.)

Eventually, I did find some rest — but not nearly enough to maintain the rapid rate at which my days are exploding of late.

I started this post to tell you why I did not sleep last night and why I was going to take a pass on writing tonight.

I ended up writing a too descriptive narrative about — nothing really.

That seems about right.

I must have entered the kitchen half a dozen times today and literally asked anyone near me, “What do you think I was going to do next?”

I keep forgetting.

9 Comments

  • Margie

    ??? I can so relate. Our dog has a fetish for socks and really anything undigestible that could be mistaken for clothing. Since we have moved it has been an excessive amount of items that have made it back out of her mouth at ridiculous times of the night.

    I hope your little made it through the night without incident.

  • Sara

    And for in the meantime:
    Lacey, trust in the Lord forever. For in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength. He is the Rock of Ages.

  • Sara

    You absolutely must rest soon. Hang on until the first of the week and then get a babysitter and sleep and read and watch fluff movies… Or whatever. Just rest.

    This is your mother speaking. ? As I
    believe she would be if she were here.

    Love. And I wish I could babysit.