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Day 3 sans Nic: Still tired!
Sitting on the couch forcing myself to write this post. I don’t want to go from ‘Day one’ to ‘Nic’s back!’
I’m waiting for that moment that I come home or AM home and catch up on the rest that always alludes me.
I’ve come to the conclusion, that Nic was never the cause of my exhaustion. Well, not since he’s been able to dress, bathe, feed and relocate himself without my assistance.
Interesting findings.
So – work, pet and chores appear to be the culprits.
Other noticeable changes, when I go into the freezer for an ice cube, there ARE ice cubes. I haven’t been through a fast food drive through since he left. And from the looks of the laundry basket, I will only be occupying one washing machine tomorrow.
Butters has been very aware of Nic’s absence. When she barks, much to my chagrin, it’s now with an urgency and suspicion. Which is increasingly creeping me out at night. She’s ‘on guard’ without having been appointed the position.
Animals are so aware.
She was rewarded with a bath Friday night (okay, she didn’t see it that way) and this morning I sang her the theme song to the ‘Love Boat’. She was thrilled the first time.
The second time, I recorded it and shared it on Facebook. She had the audacity to yawn in the middle of my crooning.
Awoke to a Facebook IM from Nic, first actual contact, it said “Ello govna!” I did manage a mild eye roll even as sleepy as I was.
Of course, it was sent at 3:45 am my time, so I didn’t get to chat with him.
He and my mom and my uncle were off to Windsor today. Something sweet about my son going to the town where I was born.
I hope to share some photos when he posts them. So far, he photographed a couple shots from the plane’s window, two photos of his in flight food and one picture of the view from my uncles flat window. (Yes, I know windows are flat, I’m referring to his apartment window.)
I shall now watch my usual Saturday night English comedies, and bid you a good Saturday night.
So does Butters.
Friday! Stars, startles and hitting send/receive
Ahhhh FRIDAY!
It was a bonkers day today. (Yeah, this is going to be one of those ‘Dear Diary’ posts, but don’t avert your eyes in voyeurism shame, you’re invited to flip through the pages of my life.)
So, I awoke at 2:15 am. Yes, we’re starting from the beginning, because I had the best giggle of the day over what ensued.
The dog was the source of my early hour awakening (shocking, I know.) Got up, trotted after the dog – no, wait, SHE trotted, I begrudgingly shuffled along after her, like the beta of our pack that I am.
Let her outside, and – instead of shuffling back to my cotton sheets – I noticed how clear the sky was and how gorgeous the stars were. I mean, even with half-opened eyes I’m noticing this, so you KNOW they were stunning.
Decided to sit outside and wait for her. Be one with nature for a few moments.
So, I’m sitting outside, star-gazing, and I notice light coming from the kitchen. The fridge is open and my son is stood staring at the contents.
Oh this is great. I’m already rubbing my hands together in mischief. Butters is ready to go back in, and so am I.
I walk in the front door and got the reaction I was hoping for from Nic. He did the full on, trying to find purchase with his feet, mouth agape, arm flail STARTLE move. Classic. Absolutely classic.
Tangent time:
I have never ONCE responded to a scare with a blood curdling scream – not once. Why is that the way they portray it in movies?? My response is usually a “SShit!” combined with some sort of body shudder. I call shenanigans on authentic movie scare responses.
Anyway, Nic’s response was authentic, and OH so satisfying.
I nonchalantly continued to my room, in a cloud of smug. 🙂
SO worth the 2:15 wake up.
Was up anyway so checked my email. Found the email I wanted (and pathetically live for these days – the send receive button is hit more than my snooze button and my knee on my desk lately.)
NOW I could go back to sleep. Content. All was right with my little world.
Then came the alarm … and preparing to conquer the mortgage world alone.
The loan officer I process for is on a mini-cruise, and, I already had a TON of work waiting for me.
I braced myself and confidently entered the building.
Day started off with an offer for an additional job. So, that would make 3. I took it. Hey – I am not turning down an opportunity to make extra money!
I have to be able to support myself in the manner to which I’d like to become accustomed – you know, like, having groceries and paying the rent AND being able to look at the ‘nice’ shampoo section.
After that, things went pretty well considering. (Except for having no access to the VA website and three VA files desperately in need of me HAVING access.)
Discovered what it must feel like to be a pet today too … one of the realtors was filling his M & M jar.
I heard that sound and my ears pricked up and my head tilted to one side. Came prancing out to make sure it was in fact candy, and not kibble being deposited in a bowl. Nope. M & M’s for sure. My afternoon was looking up.
I won’t bore you with the exciting life of loan processing (saving that for an entire post lol) Fast forward to now … here I am, sharing my exciting day with you lovely people, and looking forward to hitting send/receive on my email.
Because:
Happy Friday everyone!
Restless dog syndrome
I learned a very short sentence in German. Mein hund. Probably it’s not even a complete sentence, but since it’s only 5 a.m. on a Saturday morning and I am not close to thinking in complete sentences yet … I can’t be sure.
I learned this after wanting to learn some German, and because ‘mein hund’ is slowly driving me to the brink madness. And ‘mein hund’ is of late, at the forefront of my ‘things that come out of my mouth to mention when called upon to answer the “how are you?” question.’
I do not sleep through the night anymore.
It’s like having a newborn in the house again. Only, without the instant dissipation of frustration and loathing for sleep deprivation I experienced when I did lay eyes on my actual baby. (18 years ago)
Lack of sleep has taken its toll. I can’t remember the last time I hit REM mode during the night. And I would remember. Yes I would. I have a knack for remembering my dreams.
My only dream currently is that of an entire night with my eyelids touching.
Not the left and the right ones … the top and the bottom ones.
And why I had to clarify that is a testament to the fact that I’ve probably rolled and crossed my eyes so many times in the past few months to actually convince my tired brain the first scenario is actually possible! (And yes, I’ve gone from possible incomplete sentences to definite run-on sentences, that’s what mein hund has brought me to!)
SO there’s that going on.
Can’t focus, losing weight (What that has to do with lack of sleep, I don’t know. Probably due to increased nocturnal exercising and lack of daytime energy to chew.)
She has the audacity now, after I’ve given up on any chance at more Z catching, to lay adorably at the foot of the bed, head rested on her paws – and nap.
I should go crawl over to the edge of the bed, stare at her, breathe in her face and *thwack* the wall with something that would make a similar sound to that of her tail. Turn-about is fair play.
I would do it too! If I weren’t lacking the energy and motor skills to crawl over near her.
Morning Manatees, Royal magic and cheesecake
Good Morning to you, good morning to you.
We’re all in our places
With sunshiny faces,
and this is the way
to start a new day!
I beg to differ. My face feels like a handful of sand was tossed at it by a drunken Sandman. He did get some granules in my eyes – that must be why they’re sore and grainy.
OR … or … it could be that my dog pulled her ‘there shall be no alarms, who wants to be alarmed? C’mon, I’ll gently rouse you from sleep by creeping around the bed, then staring at you” routine again.
It IS Saturday right? Yes. And yet, at 5am, I was up. Stomping to the front door being led by my manatee with hair.
I’m getting pretty redundant writing about Butters.
I’m thinking of changing my blog name to ‘Musings-from-the-laundromat-about-Butters’ That would pretty much encompass my posts.
So, I am in fact up.
It is what it is. She is what she is. The morning has broken and since I’m too tired to start cleaning it up, I’ll share some exciting news.
It’s not my news. Or is it? If I’m sharing the news – is it technically … oh, never mind.
SO!
I have a brother in the UK. He works at Warner Bros. Well … (she says, like an eager, sparkly eyed gossip) … guess who he got to meet yesterday?
AND … (she leans in closer for effect)
He was the one that got to hand Prince Harry his wand! (If I am to believe my brother-in-law’s post on his wall, which I do.)
Haven’t seen anything on my brothers wall about it yet, but he’s been too busy hob nobbing with Royalty I suppose. I’ll be grilling him soon about all the details. The horse’s mouth will be parched by the time he’s done answering all my questions. Wait, he’ll be typing. Horses hoof?
Pretty cool if you ask me.
I had 2 pieces of cheesecake yesterday. That was pretty much the hi-light of my day.
I had been coveting the cheesecake through a glass door.
There was a meeting going on that was none of my business, but the dessert caught my eye.
It’s who you know people, it’s who you know.
That meeting broke and I had already sent my ‘don’t think I didn’t notice that cheesecake in there’ email to someone who’s business the meeting was.
Dessert tangent. Sorry. Hey – ‘Dessert Tangent’. That would be a great name for a little shop.
Back to my sibling story.
He’s talented too – made Nic and I these wand replicas before he worked there. (Oooo! Foreshadowing!!!!)
Perhaps I can wave one at Butters while saying: Expecto Patronum! That should clear the area of Butters the Demented. Or does that just work on Dementors? Hmmm ….
OR, I could just stick one up her nostril until she gets the hint.
I’ll give it some more thought when my brain wakes up.
*update … Story confirmed and got some other tid bits I can’t share … Also had to remove my brothers name due to strict social media rules. Warner Bros. has a privacy thing with their staff. But let me just play Perez Hilton for a moment and say … One person who was there has an epic imagination ;)*
Sleep deprived Buttery post
I could have sworn it was Saturday this morning. It really ought to have been. Nic was off for ‘April break’. What IS that? And why is it only one day?
Anyway – I slept like a baby last night. Woke up every 2 hours upset with something or another. Not quite screaming.
Drama + Butters + Sinus Tachycardia + son chatting on his ipad = no Z’s.
(I mean, he was seriously chatting – full on – carrying his conversation buddy around the house. In a moment of delirium, I actually thought a girl was in the bloody kitchen with him. Then I sussed it out.)
ANYWAY (she says again, and this time she means it)
My pitter pattering heart has been trying out all kinds of fun new ways to present itself to me lately. ‘Ben Gay like warmth’ feeling … left armpit pain … then last night, it got sassy on the drums … brrrrrrrrm, burr, brrr-bump. And then something in my chest grabbed a tambourine and started showing off.
A friend taught me to cough to get myself back into rhythm – so I lay there, coughing like a dork.
THEN there’s Butters. Oh Butters.
Don’t let this image fool you. She does. not. sleep!
For two weeks or so – every few hours from 9pm until my alarm goes off at 6am (not that it’s had a chance to go off for the last week), she stands inches from my face and whines and wags.
I get up, let her out – and then leave the flipping front door open so she can get back in.
You see the crack? And you’ve seen her nose – so seriously, WHY can’t she ‘nose’ her way back out?!?! She sure as hell can do it when a cat walks w/in a mile of the house.
I might as well just put an ad on Craig’s List inviting any local wackos or serial killers to my insanely unsecure house at night.
“Come on in! Doors open! I’ll just be in my room, trying to sleep. Be as quiet as possible when you kill me.”
Why does she sleep inside? Our fence is chicken wire basically … I think intended for really apathetic, frail chickens. And we have coyotes out and about.
In between the fun excursions to the flipping door – the tiny snatches of sleep I grabbed onto, (which, resulted in nightmares) Waking up to Nic church mousin’ around the house and my heart getting all excited, I woke up (pffft … didn’t really ‘wake up’ so much as ‘give up’) none too pleased.
I tried to have a chat with her.
She didn’t care. She assures me she’ll be doing it tonight too. And the night after that, and the night after that.
And the thought occurred … when she’s older, and not energetic – probably I’ll miss the spry insomniac that she used to be.
Debauchery Soup 