I explained reason #1 for me to have my husband in a previous post, although I did not label it as such. Reason #1 is because having a husband means I almost always have a spider killer at my disposal. Reason #2 is that I am afraid of the dark and have an over-active imagination.
Last night husband got to go spend the night at a sleep clinic because his snores are starting to wake the neighbors and I'm tired of buying earplugs. Before leaving he commented that I would probably sleep great because he would not be next to me making the wall vibrate, and I have to admit, I almost believed him. But then I realized it would be my first night alone in our house. The animals don't count because the dog is going deaf and sleeps harder than a narcoleptic alcoholic and cats are crazy. I thought, mind over matter, I would be able to convince myself that I am an adult, the doors are all locked and the likelihood of a serial killer choosing the one night I was home alone to randomly attack me are pretty slim. I was not able to convince myself of any such things.
I stayed up really late, thinking that would cause me to fall instantly asleep when I turned the lights off, and walked through the whole house and checked windows and doors so that my brain wouldn't be able to suggest the possibility that the door wasn't actually locked and that's not just the furnace making that noise. You can guess by that last run-on sentence that those things didn't work. I think I may have slept 2 hours last night? At one point, I think I was actually asleep, but I was dreaming that I was laying in bed, not asleep but with my eyes closed and I was hearing someone walking around. In the dream I finally convinced myself that I might actually be hearing something scary so I got up to let the dog out and when I got to the back door I realized it wasn't latched! So that's when I think I actually stopped sleeping. I had to actually get up and re-check everything and then proceeded to wake up every time the furnace kicked on or off, the dog shifted her position, a car drove by, and one of the cats made a noise. It was a long night.
So despite husbands intense snoring, and likely sleep apnea, and the fact that he sleeps deeper than the dog and the likelihood of him hearing a serial killer and having the capacity to do anything about it as he sleepily stumbles about is even less than me convincing myself that there is not an alien zombie ghost in the hallway, I have decided that reason #2 for having a husband, is that he is someone warm in bed next to me and his snoring presence allows me to put earplugs in my ears and not hear anything that may or may not be creeping around my house.
Monday, November 26, 2012
Super Graceful
So I ran across this ecard on Pinterest a while ago:
And I thought, "wow! That it totally true!"
I am always finding bruises all over myself and have no idea where they come from. What's more, I've started making mental notes, and not so mental comments to myself and husband when I run into things. I'll bash into the coffee table or a desk and say, ow! holy whatensuch and other shorter, four-letter type words, and then tell husband or whoever happens to be nearby (because I rarely do these things when there isn't at least one person around to witness the extent of my coordination deficiency), that "hey, I'll have a bruise there later." But here's the really crazy part, I rarely actually end up with a bruise from those events which I notate! Or maybe I do, but my attention span for bruise development is severely limited...I'm not sure. All I know is when I think I'll end up with a bruise, I rarely witness one come to pass, but then other times I'll catch a glimpse of one, or I'll touch one I didn't know was there, and have NO CLUE where it came from!
This all had a point, I'm sure that's hard to believe. Last week, I think it was last week, I noticed I had a severely dark and intense looking bruise on the back of my arm. This thing was good, deep purple about the size of a half-dollar (do people even know what those are anymore?) and looked suspiciously like a large thumb (as if someone grabbed me). For those of you who don't know I am a counselor for domestic violence offenders, and I have become much more aware of domestic violence as well as things that can be construed as domestic violence. No, husband does not beat me. But I am increasingly concerned that someone is going to think I'm one of those counselors with similar issues of my own and this is only fueled by the appearance of bruises I cannot explain! Needless to say I did my best to hide my arms last week at work. I did wear a t-shirt under a sweater though one day and my supervisor noticed the bruise so of course I'm all, "IHAVENOIDEAWHEREITCAMEFROM ISN'TTHATWEIRD?" She wasn't nearly as concerned about it as I was, which I have to admit was kind of a let down after I built it all up in my head. I guess I expected like an intervention or something. But alas no, no unnecessary intervention for me.
Oddly enough, that was also not my primary inspiration for this post. Although, that's sort of a lie, it has a similar theme in the mysterious bruise area of things. My inspiration is a totally un-mysterious bruise I have forming on my right butt cheek. I have no pictures as of yet, but I cannot promise there won't be any, I can promise I will edit out anything that could visually prove the location of the bruise. Anyway, the punch line is I have learned definitively that I cannot read and walk down stairs. I am as surprised by this as anyone who may read this and actually knows me might be, that I did not know that about myself before now. The story is not all that exciting, partly because I don't really remember what happened. But I was walking down to our laundry room and I was reading the packaging on something and I guess, missed a step? Thought a step was bigger than it was? Decided to try my hand at levitation? Either way I went down and hit at least 2 steps with my rear before coming to a stop. And now, to show (or not to show) for it, I cannot sit strait and have a lovely bruise developing that I really kinda want to show off. At least I know where this one came from!
I am always finding bruises all over myself and have no idea where they come from. What's more, I've started making mental notes, and not so mental comments to myself and husband when I run into things. I'll bash into the coffee table or a desk and say, ow! holy whatensuch and other shorter, four-letter type words, and then tell husband or whoever happens to be nearby (because I rarely do these things when there isn't at least one person around to witness the extent of my coordination deficiency), that "hey, I'll have a bruise there later." But here's the really crazy part, I rarely actually end up with a bruise from those events which I notate! Or maybe I do, but my attention span for bruise development is severely limited...I'm not sure. All I know is when I think I'll end up with a bruise, I rarely witness one come to pass, but then other times I'll catch a glimpse of one, or I'll touch one I didn't know was there, and have NO CLUE where it came from!
This all had a point, I'm sure that's hard to believe. Last week, I think it was last week, I noticed I had a severely dark and intense looking bruise on the back of my arm. This thing was good, deep purple about the size of a half-dollar (do people even know what those are anymore?) and looked suspiciously like a large thumb (as if someone grabbed me). For those of you who don't know I am a counselor for domestic violence offenders, and I have become much more aware of domestic violence as well as things that can be construed as domestic violence. No, husband does not beat me. But I am increasingly concerned that someone is going to think I'm one of those counselors with similar issues of my own and this is only fueled by the appearance of bruises I cannot explain! Needless to say I did my best to hide my arms last week at work. I did wear a t-shirt under a sweater though one day and my supervisor noticed the bruise so of course I'm all, "IHAVENOIDEAWHEREITCAMEFROM ISN'TTHATWEIRD?" She wasn't nearly as concerned about it as I was, which I have to admit was kind of a let down after I built it all up in my head. I guess I expected like an intervention or something. But alas no, no unnecessary intervention for me.
Oddly enough, that was also not my primary inspiration for this post. Although, that's sort of a lie, it has a similar theme in the mysterious bruise area of things. My inspiration is a totally un-mysterious bruise I have forming on my right butt cheek. I have no pictures as of yet, but I cannot promise there won't be any, I can promise I will edit out anything that could visually prove the location of the bruise. Anyway, the punch line is I have learned definitively that I cannot read and walk down stairs. I am as surprised by this as anyone who may read this and actually knows me might be, that I did not know that about myself before now. The story is not all that exciting, partly because I don't really remember what happened. But I was walking down to our laundry room and I was reading the packaging on something and I guess, missed a step? Thought a step was bigger than it was? Decided to try my hand at levitation? Either way I went down and hit at least 2 steps with my rear before coming to a stop. And now, to show (or not to show) for it, I cannot sit strait and have a lovely bruise developing that I really kinda want to show off. At least I know where this one came from!
Monday, November 12, 2012
Daylight Savings Blows
I really truly hate daylight savings. Or the lack of daylight savings. Honestly I'm not really sure if we are on daylight savings now or off of it, all I know is that it is 5:09 and I feel like I should be getting ready for bed. And that's not only because I am already in my comfy pants and sans bra. I hate that it is dark already. Now this may have something to do with the fact that I wanted to get some more done today and I needed outdoors in order to do it. I wanted to do some painting after I got back from my run but it was a little too cold and a little too dark by the time I got back. So now I'm siting on the couch feeling like I should be doing something productive but I'm not sure what. Husband is playing a video game and I sort of wish it was 2 player, but it's not. I should probably get up and take our soup out of the freezer so it can thaw, but I have a snuggle-y new baby kitty in my lap and so I can't really justify getting up right now. The other option I can come up with is folding laundry or continuing the project I started yesterday while looking for my painting supplies, organizing the office...but, well, that just doesn't sound fun at all! And this being my symbolic Sunday I feel like I should do something I enjoy. Which is why I wanted to paint! Dag-nabit! Stupid daylight savings or lack of daylight savings! Do they have these problems in Arizona?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)