I know I keep talking about my sleep each night, but it’s a third of my life, so I feel it deserves a mention, at least. Last night was absolutely hilarious yet scary at the same time. I was so tired…sooo very tired that during my nightly urinary adventures, I was lost – had no idea where I was. I ran into the wall, but couldn’t get my bearings straight. In the breadth of a second I had been transported to being a little 4 year old girl who had locked herself into the WC (bathroom) in Hirschegg, Austria, the village where I had been baptized as an infant and I was trapped. 40 years later, I realized I could turn on the light..and found myself by the sink. Being the brilliant journalist that I am, I captured this experience on my voice recorder last night. Over a 30 second period I said these words: “Remember..I talked about sleeping deeply… question mark. Last night I was wandering and getting lost. <long pause> I don’t even know where I was going, I had to turn on the light. That’s how deeply I was sleeping.” Christiane Amanpour, eat your heart out.
Up to Pollock Pine where I passed emergency vehicles rushing to a car accident. The scanner let me know it went off the road and there was someone ejected from the car. At my site, I fell for this precious kid (no vomiting today). This child is a doll and I am looking forward to next Wednesday. As I drove back to work, I saw the car – a huge hole in the windshield where a body had flown through. I’m not sure how it ended, but it doesn’t look good.
And then…a monthly staff meeting where additional confusion was thrown on top of my already muddled brain. Consistently, time after time, I am told, “No, no you understand this” or “you know more than you think you do,” and yet…it doesn’t connect; the synapses are not making a connection. As a solution, I suggested melted cheese to my J-Ber. Fortunately she saw the common sense in this and agreed.
Nachos were my final plummet. I inhaled that shit like cocaine and oh my god, was it good. I even got the re-fried beans instead of pinto, that’s how far I went. This whole anti-carb thing has gone far enough so after my nacho experience (and work, of course, I am responsible enough to have gone to work to see clients after lunch), I bought bread, bagels (for Maggie’s breakfast though I’ve had two – first time in decades) and tortillas. I think I’ll go back to my sprouted bread with peanut butter for breakfast. Simple beginnings.
So. One call was about a house – a gorgeous, perfect house. Tile roof, brick house, 2 car garage, two fireplaces, an enclosed patio, backyard, 3 bedrooms and 2 baths. However…it is just me. Just me. My job is with a non-profit agency…the one that pays the least. It isn’t smart to do this, not now – because I don’t want to have to work my ass off to pay for this house so I can sell it one day (soon?!?!), thus I said no…which is the responsible thing to say, right? And I’ll keep looking and maybe I’ll find a house and maybe I won’t. I just know I’m not killing myself in a place I don’t even like and can’t wait to get out of (wowza – if that ain’t bitter sounding, I don’t know what is). Tomorrow I am going to try to not write about food or sleep, the two “action” points of my life. 🙂
No picture again, though I was going to add last night’s riveting audio recording- just not sure how to do so on WordPress.
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