It is after midnight and I am sitting in my office in sweat pants I've worn to bed for the last 5 days and the shirt I wore today... AND I still have my bra on... AND I am wearing my coat. Why? I'm freezing. It wasn't even a cold day but I somehow caught a chill I can't shake. I crawled in bed right after dinner... fully clothed with another coat zipped up to my neck... a fleece coat that is better than the coat I am now wearing but is up in my room. I fell asleep like that only to be woken (is that a word?) awakened? Ripped from the depths of blessed oblivion by my husband rattling around in the room in preparation of his own slumber. I got up, took off my jeans and replaced them with my rancid sweats which I picked up off of the floor, removed my coat, brushed my teeth and downed two Tylenol PM and crawled back in bed. Only when I exited our bathroom I was hit by the foul stench of a recently ripped one the likes of which make your eyes water and your nose hairs erupt into flames. I complained vociferously as Mr. Macchiato sheepishly said he couldn't even smell it anymore. Uh... yeah! That's because it probably seared his nose cavity for the rest of time! Dead cats smell better than that!
Double Shot has a friend sleeping over. Why? It's Christmas break and his sports take up most of his time and he doesn't really get to hang out with his friends that often. AND his Dad said he could even though it is a work night for him and I used that reason the night before to tell Frappy no to a sleep over with one of her friends. WHO IS QUIET. Double Shot and his friend are NOT. I could hear them banging around in the kitchen as I frantically tried to force myself back to sleep. I took Tylenol PM for Pete's sake!!! Pete and whoever came up with the whole sleep over idea need to both be beat.
I thought I might actually get back to sleep when the snoring started. I then thought if I made a wall of pillows between Mr. Macchiato and I and then placed another over my head that the noise would be muffled to a low rumble that might actually lull me back to sleep. No dice. I felt like I was in the den of a hibernating bear. No, scratch that. I can hear him through the vents above me as I type this. The den of a family of grizzlies with sleep apnea might be closer. I wiggled the bed which is a technique I often use to jostle him without waking him which then causes him to roll over without me coming off like a shrew. If he didn't have to work in the morning I'd go shrew all the way and then let him sleep in the morning. It didn't work for but a few minutes and then he was back to sawing those logs. Meanwhile, the boys were downstairs fixing something else to eat and not being quiet about it at all. Mr. Macchiato flopped around before getting up to go tell them to be quiet. He was back to snoring before I could blink three times.
I could feel myself reaching the freak out zone so I decided to try to leave without waking him. Mr. Macchiato doesn't like it when I'm not next to him. It is sweet but... I'm like a worn out teddy bear with one eye missing. I have to be very careful because he almost always wakes up when I try to sneak away. I have to slowly ease out of bed and then stand by the bed for awhile before I quietly make my way to the door. Inevitably he calls my name the second my hand touches the door knob. He always wants to know where I am going and if I'm coming back. Sigh... Tonight was no different. I assured him I'd be back hoping that it was true.
As I stepped into the hall I saw that Frappy's light was still on and decided to go in there. I've taken to sleeping in there if I can't in my own bed. She was reading Harry Potter. I didn't let the kids read those books when they were younger. That was when I also didn't let them watch TV. I crawled in bed with her and she continued to read all the while grumbling that it was weird for me to get in bed with her. I laid there for awhile... first facing the booger wall. When she was younger she would stick boogers on the wall rather than get a tissue. I guess we should have been glad she didn't eat them... and the boogers are long gone and the wall has been painted... but, I couldn't face that wall because it made me think about them. So, I flipped over and looked at the poster across the room. The one she brought home from college of a green girl with her face over the toilet. It says, "Hug your friends, not the toilet." And her tick tock clock tick tocked and made me think of Peter Pan and the Captain yelling, "I'm a cod fish!" None of which was the slightest bit sleep inducing. Frappy said she was going to tell her boyfriend about her freak mom and I told her she could go back to college. She then decided to go downstairs with her book and I felt bad so I decided to come down too.
I started shivering again. I didn't want to go upstairs and risk waking Mr. Macchiato so I got another coat out of the coat closet. Causing Frappy, now on the couch, to roll her eyes. I went to rifle around in the fridge but Double Shot's super spidey senses kicked in and he wandered up to see what I might be fixing and to make sure I made some for him. Uh, no. Besides, after all the holiday goodies I'm ready for some broccoli. However, as I sit here, in the middle of the night, typing my sad tale, and wondering how many commas I can use in one sentence... even though I apparently don't care about grammar at all... proven by the fact that there is a paragraph above that is in need of commas... and I'm obviously in love with dot dot dots... I will, no doubt, be finding my way back up to the fridge in a bit. And not for broccoli. Well, unless we have cheese. Well, no... I don't know what I'll get.
Anyway, that is how I ended up in the office at this very late hour after deciding that I could, at the very least, get a blog post out of this wretched night. And if you are wondering why I am still wearing my bra... it is because we have someone else's kid in our house. And there might be a catastrophe... in which case, I would prefer not to be bra less in the presence of one of my friend's kids. You may think that is ridiculous but it is not. Now... if I still had on my shoes, which I considered, that would be ridiculous.
If I can't sleep I am going to read, Josephus, The Complete Works.