It's a beautiful sunny Sunday afternoon here in Beantown and I am on the top floor of a skyscraper working. Grrrr. The windows in this office do not even open, which is usually a good thing given how frustrated I sometimes get. That whole "I'm going to jump out the 21st floor window" joke would be a lot less funny if I could actually do it. But today its a real bummer because my stuffy nose could certainly use a good whiff of CO2 and the other great pollutants that are all part of an urban environment. I guess this is inspiration to work harder and finish quicker. (Could this statement be evidence of my glass-half-full policy coming to fruition for 2012?).
I had another bout of insomnia last night. I had myself convinced that evil took me over for most of 2011 and that I needed to repent for better living in 2012. Yup. Raised Catholic. What is it about the dark that makes your mind go crazy? I mean, literally crazy. I got up and watched tv until 2am. I knew this wasn't a good way to kick off a Sunday, but I figured it would all be better by morning. Bill Maher is a riot, by the way. I'm so glad I have free HBO for 4 more months! (again, glass-half-full).
I finally fell into bed at 230am and all was well until 630ish when Husband woke up and announced that he was leaving for a run. After a little bit of begging on my part, Husband nicely agreed to delay his run for a couple hours to watch the cherubs so I could get some shut eye. This was great news. I was as happy as a lark (no idea what that means, but I think people say it and I assume that larks are very happy birds; they are birds, right?) until my son snuck up on me and screamed "MUFFIN PARTY!" at the top of his lungs within 3 inches of my nose. It was a terrific way to be awoken from the deepest sleep of my lifetime. I mumbled something incoherent and rolled back over, only to be awoken ten minutes later when Husband announced he was really leaving this time. Really? I'm still recovering from the muffin party announcement. Ugh. I had so many objections to this plan, but I couldn't get myself together enough to verbalize them. Before I knew it, the front door was closing and Husband was sprinting away from the house. For a moment I thought about going back to sleep, but then I remembered these are my kids. Curious and creative little buggers. They require constant supervision. And handcuffs.
When I got around to opening my eyes, I quickly realized that I was half blind. Okay, not blind as in completely dark. But it was partly dark and so blurry that I could not see. I was sure it was some pesky lint or sleep dust or something in there, so I rummaged through the dirty tissue purse and doused my cheeks with eye drops before finally hitting my targets. Nope, the drops didn't work. So I flushed the eyeballs with water. Nope, the water didn't work. Hmph. If I didn't have Lasik surgery 2 weeks ago, I would have sought medical attention the way I usually do: Google. But since I did, I was taking every precaution and seeking the advice of an actual professional (or at least someone who had assumed insane amounts of medical school debt, which must make them worthy of some sort of valuable advice). I stumbled downstairs and called an on-call physician who was less than thrilled to have her Sunday origami session interrupted by some blinded chick. Long story short, I cured myself of dry-eye and the on-call doctor was thrilled to have done absolutely nothing. I didn't even consult Google. I knew I should have been a doctor!
Now, if it wasn't the insomnia then I was sure the temporary blindness would have been the low point of my Sunday. "It can only go upwards from here" I was thinking. But then my almost-2 yr old daughter pooped on my 3 yr old son's bedroom carpet. What is up with this kid and pooping on the carpet? It's unbelievable! I got that cleaned up and was sure that was the low point of my Sunday. Then I remembered how many deadlines I have on Monday and decided to come to work to avoid a panic attack. Working on a Sunday is brutal enough, but then I find colleague-so&so in the next office down blasting opera music and stirring up all sorts of dust and other air born particles while "cleaning". Doesn't this dude know the particles are better off deep in the carpet fibers and heating ducts? Swishing them around in the air is going to make us all sterile. To his credit, he turned down the Barbara Streisand (or was it opera?) immediately, but I can't breath and my nose is as stuffy as it's been in years. If this is not my low point for today, then it is especially good that my skyscraper window doesn't open. For him and for me.
I will sign off now to embark on a moment of silence and pray that this is, in fact, the worst part of my Sunday. There is nothing but savory & sweet rainbows in store for the rest of my afternoon. Yes, Husband took the two kids grocery shopping. Score one for me!
Ta-ta. For now.
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