Dammit, Gwen — go to sleep.
I have a ton of stuff to do tomorrow. (Uh… in two hours, I mean.) (Read the previous entry and see why I’m awake at 4 AM.) In the morning, before we go to school and work (in two hours,) I have to find some documents so I can register my oldest son for middle school before I go to work. Then I have to work all day, and then I’m supposed to drag my kids to a meeting we’re having about this reading we’re gonna have Sunday. I’m gonna read a piece from my upcoming book. Email me if you’re interested in attending and need more information. There’ll be free coffee from Starbucks!
After the meeting, I may or may not have to go to this radio station to talk about the reading we’re gonna do. If not, then we have to rush home so we can watch American Idol together, like a family, as we say. (Okay — as I say. The kids never say anything that corny.)
I’m gonna be so tired if I don’t go back to sleep right now. I could do one of two things — I see two paths emerging from this moment in my life. I could say, “I’m not tired!” and turn on the lights right now and do laundry or look for those papers until 6 AM. Maybe even iron some clothes. Then I’ll get to work early for once and be dead tired by 9 AM. Or, I could get back into bed, lie awake for twenty or thirty minutes, then wake up groggy and cranky when the alarm goes off. Fall asleep again while sitting on the toilet. Maybe even reset the alarm and then sleep through it the second time. (Because it’s a Dollar Tree clock, it goes off more quietly the second time. Like it’s tired, too.)
I’m going to stop babbling now. I’m going to go back to sleep. Maybe.
