The latest thing is to wake up at 4 or 5 in the morning and not be able to get back to sleep. Usually not a problem, but today I have a Dr. appointment and don't dare take a nap, lest I miss it. My naps are usually between 2 and 6 hours. My daily schedule looks something like this:
4 am: Come wide awake for no apparent reason.
5:30: Fall back asleep.
6:00: Alarm wakes me up. James hits snooze.
6:07: Alarm. Again. James. Snooze.
6:14: Alarm. Again. James. Snooze.
6:20: Preemptive strike. I kill James, hurl alarm clock through the window.
6:21: Oh. That was just a nice dream. Alarm. Again. James finally gets up.
6:25: I drag myself out of bed, stumble around the kitchen doing *random tasks until coffee, lunch and breakfast are made.
6:30: James comes down from showering, eats breakfast, is alert and sometimes cheerful. I kill him again.
6:40: We spend ten minutes on the couch, visiting. Mostly it's me wishing fervently that he weren't going to work--not because I'll miss him or anything sappy like that but because he is so very warm and his arm is so very comfortable.
6:50: Jame's carpool buddy arrives. I realize that, in the last ten minutes I've magically woken up. Oh. Coffee. Right.
7:00: Finish washing dishes. Putz around for a while, either on the computer or reading a book.
8:00: **Pass out. If I'm not in bed or on the couch already, oops. Black eyes. If I were running from a pack of grouchy alligators, and the clock struck 8:00, I would fall asleep with my head in one of their mouths.
1 pm: OH MY GOODNESS I HAVE TO PEE RUN RUN RUN TO BATHROOM.
1:02: Realize what time it is. Feel worthless for wasting the day.
1:03-3:30: Waste more time on the computer or reading. Sometimes I clean the bathrooms or do laundry.
3:35: Jump in the shower so I'm not gross when James gets home.
4:25: Start some random task so when James walks in an an air of productivity hangs about me.
Rest of the day: Stuff like cooking and eating and going for walks. I have three comfortable shirts that fit. On of them is striped, two shades of orange. The neighbors refer to me behind closed doors as "the pumpkin".
Between 1:00 and 2:00: Finally fall asleep again.
Every half hour between then and 4:00: Gingerly hoist self out of bed without using ab muscles too much so as not to pee in bed. Run for bathroom. I amaze myself at how fast I can move.
*I am so bleary at this time of day that my routine looks something like this: Turn on burner to heat up butter for eggs. Empty old coffee grounds from yesterday. Get out knife for making sandwich. Oh crap, the butter is burning. Get eggs out. Get mayo and mustard and sandwich meat out. Oh crap. Butter is still burning. Crack eggs over pan... You get the point.
**Somewhere in there are the crazy dreams. While it's been a while since I had the dream about purposely leaving my baby in a public restroom or the dream about how I can't feed her, so she wastes away to nothing, I did dream yesterday that our baby was the most disturbing=looking child known to man. I mean, she looked like a baby, but she had this giant head and face and almost no body. Something that would be cute in a cartoon, but in real life would be horrifying.
We went out last night to help some friends move. On our way down the street, we saw Ed walk out his door with something in his hands. We waved, he waved. I said to James, "It looks like he's going to our house. We came home at 10:30 to find four beautiful tomatoes waiting for us on the porch. Aaaaaw.
I wish I could bake. I'd make them a huge batch of cookies or something. We could have them over for dinner, but then there's the matter of making conversation. What if no one talked? What if it was horribly awkward the whole time? What if I made something they hated?
What if I were more of a neurotic pile of ridiculous?