...to leave me alone with myself.
Today is strange and I am low on sleep. I am going to go ahead and see if a log of the confusing, ridiculous way that my mind works is even moderately amusing. Or, you know, makes any sense at all.
Tyler is gone for the week, so I am left to my own devices. It was never strange to be alone before I got married, but now I'm just so...so
used to someone else being around. It is a good thing. It makes me censor my actions and such because I know someone else will see how I use my time. I have no idea why I've decided to allow other humans to know how I spend my time when I'm alone, but there you go.
Ok, no more trying to explain myself. I will let the day speak for itself.
3.30 am: Tyler's devil-alarm goes off. He rolls out of bed and starts actually doing getting-ready-to-go things.
3.33 am: My satan-phone-alarm goes off, trying desperately to remind me that I also need to get out of bed.
3.42 am: Tyler comes to gently remind me that getting out of bed requires motion.
3.43 am: I roll out of bed (no, literally, a roll. I tend to actually hit the floor when I do this). Remember that people will not actually see me because I will be sitting in a car all morning and pull on the green boy-sweats. Yank on hoodie. Hood has forced all of my hair directly over my face. I decide this does not matter because I can't see anyway. Attempt to remedy my blindness by putting glasses on. Forget to move hair out of the way of glasses. Decide it does not matter.
(rough approximation)
3.44 am: I grab small purse with phone, keys, and driver's license, and head towards the door. Remember that shoes are important as I am halfway out the door and slip some on. Tyler convinces me to grab a pillow from the couch for the drive up to Spokane's Airport. We are in the car.
3.45-51 am: Sleep is not coming back to me. It is dark, I am not driving, classical music is playing, and I am clutching the pillow to me like a short, squishy cuddle-buddy (dear lord, must find a different phrase. Cuddle-buddy makes me want to die inside), but sleep remains elusive.
This is what came up in googleimages for "cuddle buddy".
Now I want to die inside even more.
3.52-5.12 am: I spend the drive up singing loudly to the radio, observing the deer lurking around the side of the road, and making conversation (or completely unconnected statements) with Tyler. I have no idea if any of my words made sense.
5.13 am: We are right next to the Spokane Airport searching for a McDonald's. I see no golden arches, so Tyler pulls into a Jack-In-The-Box to see if we can find some foods to put in our stomach. I have a strong feeling that Tyler needs something to counteract the energy drink in his empty stomach.
5.14 am: Don't get the meat breakfast burrito at Jack-In-The-Box. Seriously. Unless you're into imitation egg wrapped with a piece of ham and raw bacon.
5.16 am: I drop off Tyler at the airport. There is much hugging and such. I get into the driver's seat and begin chugging one of those delicious lemonade-flavored rock stars that stay in my system like crack all day. I can feel the caffeine trembling begin as I pull back onto the highway.
Behold my awesome power and tremble.
No, seriously, you won't be able to stop shaking.
5.19-6.42 am: The progression of my thoughts on the drive home astounds even me. The radio gets a serious workout. Between frantically changing the stations and yelling at Rhianna to stop polluting the radio with things that make me uncomfortable, I start reviewing the plots and characters of various books and tv shows in my head and then rewriting them. I am incredibly excited about my brilliance until I realize that I am basically creating fanfic. I refuse to ever write this down and to never admit that this happened. I am unaware that I will shortly be sharing all this information online.
6.43 am: I climb the stairs to my apartment, slam the door behind me, and decide I should definitely try to sleep a little before work. My library book that is sitting on the futon jumps into the edge of my vision as I make my way to the bedroom. I decide to read "just a little" before I sleep, knowing that this will not end well.
6.44-7.32 am: I read "just a little" and complete Northanger Abbey.
7.33-7.48 am: I start doing an exercise program I have taken from a fitness magazine. Decide quickly that I hate fitness and never want to do another pushup for the rest of my life. I am sleepy. Remind myself that showers are important and decide being clean is probably a better plan than sleeping for all of fifteen minutes.
Yes, this thing is stronger than me.
7.49-8.04 am: I get clean.
8.05-8.33 am: Various drying and blow-drying and dressing and makeupping and such happens.
8.35 am: I realize that I should bring lunch to work. Search the fridge for something easily grab-able. Find salad-spinner of cut lettuce and tomatoes and carrots. Shove into tupperware and grab salad dressing. Carefully balance library stuff, purse, and lunch things while trying to lock the apartment door.
8.59 am: I arrive at work, depositing lunch things into the fridge and greeting various co-workers as I journey to my desk and clock in.
9.00-11.56 am: Check insurances, confirm appointments, answer phones, and go through my recall list like a good worker. I occasionally mix in some reading of various internet things as I work.
11.57 am: I decide it is close enough to noon and that I will start openly weeping at my desk if I do not get some food in me right away.
11.58 am: Consume salad-lunch in about thirty seconds. I grab the bag of fruit snacks that I threw into my purse this morning and decide that sucking on the fruit snacks will trick my stomach into thinking it is consuming more food than it actually is.
Not to be used as actual food.
12.00 pm: I find that my strategy was less than successful. I heat up a mug of hot water and drink this at my desk. I am unsure why I think this will help, but at least it makes my insides warm.
12.03-4.02 pm: Pull files, scan documents, schedule appointments, and try to provide witty banter in office. Realize that my leg has been jiggling up and down for an hour. I suspect latent energy drink, but am powerless to do anything. Decide to ignore it. Drop the phone several times before I decide to blame my lack of coordination on the energy drink too. Attempt to get through my massive pile of documents-to-scan, simultaneously enjoying
rifftrax on youtube through my headphones. Their banter causes me to snort several times in an attempt to hold in laughter and I believe it alarms my coworkers. Continue efforts to stifle laughter. I think I am going to choke on my own chuckles.
4.03 pm: Leave work (successfully remembering my lunch container
and salad dressing), get into vehicle, and drive to library.
4.09-4.48 pm: Spend time wandering library, browsing their dvd selection, and getting new books, some of which I am far too embarrassed to actually post on goodreads
.com. Thank God for self-checkout. I don't want the librarians to judge me.
Like this, but instead of Gaga it's me. And instead of clothes, it's books.
Actually, maybe they judge my clothes too.
4.53 pm: I am so consumed with hunger that I am actually getting light-headed. Stop by Little Caesar's on the way home and buy a cheese pizza.
5.05 pm: I carefully balance my library finds and my lunch supplies in piles on top of the pizza box and am able to lock my car and unlock my apartment without dropping anything. I feel mighty.
5.06 pm: Deposit items on table and floor. Run to bedroom after realization that I can put my sweats on immediately because Tyler is not here, so I have no one to look attractive for. I put a disc of "Friends" from the library into the dvd player (I am excited because I have not watched this since...pretty much my freshman year of college) and open the pizza box.
5.13 pm: I realize that I have consumed four pieces of pizza in the first seven minutes of the episode. I feel intense shame, but cannot yet bring myself to be sorry. I decide to be a good person and wrap the rest of the pizza in tinfoil for lunch tomorrow.
7.31 pm: Finish the first disc of "Friends" episodes. And the remaining raspberry sorbet in our freezer.
7.32 pm: Sit on the couch immersing myself in various pages of "Mark
Reads". Skim through his Harry Potter reviews, Twilight reviews, and Golden Compass reviews since I have already completed his Hunger Games reviews. I remember that I could be reading an actual book. This thought is promptly banished from my mind. Continue reading reviews while I watch more "Friends". O Chandler. You comic relief, you.
Yes, comfort me with your humorous banter.
And your nineties fashion choices.
9.43 pm: Debate whether to get ready for bed and catch up on sleep or watch something else. Put in the Swedish "Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" dvd out of curiosity and excitement.
9.57 pm: Quickly realize that this was a terrible decision. Turn off dvd and resolve to watch this only when there is full light outside. I wander around the apartment double-checking the locks on all two doors and all the windows. Cautiously get ready for bed, sending paranoid looks over my shoulder every few seconds. Decide to calm myself down by bringing a thoroughly non-scary book to bed and reading for just a little bit. Grab Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
10.53 pm: I remember that I never, ever read anything for just a little bit. Set my alarm and turn off the light.
10.59 pm: Realize I am still doing the weird fanfic thing in my head. Die inside a little.
To clarify, I started writing this between readings of "Mark Reads" and finished it the next morning at work.
I don't know why I am clarifying, because no one asked.
Ta-da! I do nothing productive when Tyler is away. But I did promise I would clean the apartment while he was gone, so that is something productive that has to happen.
Alright, back to work for me.
Sleep is such a good thing.
