I give myself a hard pinch on the back of my arm…similar to the one I was instructed to give while learning lamaze so many years ago. It hurts. I hate it. It’s definitely a last restort. But I have to stay awake just a little bit longer.
I have no idea what’s come over me. I’m supposed to be the night owl….barn owl…one of the children of the night (creepy zombie movie examples to the side), a vampire…right?
I’m not supposed to be drifting off to sleep just after eleven. Who does this? Not me.
Yet, here I am…one crazy, under-caffeinated, over-tired, barely recognizable, wine cooler lightweight. I’m surprised my own vampires can stand the sight of me, these days.
That might have been a bit extreme.
But sometimes you have to get extreme with yourself. Nobody likes a candy-ass, right? Wait…did somebody say, candy?
Maybe, if I just took a short nap…just shut my eyes for a few minutes…then I could wake up refreshed and ready to blog. Sounds like a good idea, right?
Wrong. I fell asleep for two hours, and when I woke up, to the heavy breathing of my mastiff, steaming up my eyelids, I was not any closer to being rested…and I was hungry.
Ah, the great outdoors. Thanks to you, this is what I’m reduced to. I’m becoming an Amish housewife. Next thing you know, I’ll be baking bread (while I quilt) in one hand, and milking a freaking goat in the other…while I churn butter with my feet.
The mere idea is making me crave piping hot bread with fresh whipped butter.
So much for writing a blog tonight. Sorry all…I’m heading into the kitchen to bake bread. Or maybe I’ll just make some chocolate chip cookies. I mean, baking is baking right? As long as I’m happy, what difference does it make?
Until the next time…I’ll be wallowing in flour!