But writing a post first. About what, I'll figure out as I go.
It's been quite a week. I know I mentioned earlier in the week that I started the week out exhausted. Well, it didn't get any better. In fact, I don't know that it got worse, either. Just weirder, I think. I got up too early on Sunday, took no nap and stayed up way too late Sunday night. When the alarm went off Monday, I knew I was doomed. I tried going to bed relatively early on Monday night and I didn't hurt nearly as much on Tuesday. But Tuesday night I stayed up late again with all my trash tv and I really felt it Wednesday. And Thursday. This morning I woke up around 4am or so and started debating with myself if I should leave the alarm clock as is (set for 5:15am) or let myself sleep in a little while longer. I decided that I was too tired to keep doing this to myself, so I reset the alarm for 7am. (I don't have to be to work until 8:30, though I go in at 6:30 most days.) It took just minutes and I was back asleep. I managed to pull the blankets up over my head at some point after that. I only know this because Ollie jumped up on the bed and saw I was completely covered and started clawing at the blankets to uncover me. He does this to me typically on Saturday mornings when he feels I've slept too late. He wakes me up and I figure it must be almost time for the alarm. I pet him and he cuddles up with me. Then I look at the clock and I got pissy. It was 5:16. A minute after the alarm would have gone off. Little bastard. So I got up and started my day, sleep defeated. I was at work by 6:30 and everything was going pretty well... until about 9am. I started to crash. Hard. This week had finally, officially caught up with me. And that's when I noticed the clock stopped ticking. And it didn't start ticking again until about 4:30 this afternoon, coincidentally the exact time I left work. Funny that. I hate days like this. Not because time is dragging (though I can't say I'm a fan of that), but because I don't like where my brain goes. When I'm tired like this, it seems the walls in my brain collapse and all the things I try not to think about come flooding back. I spent a good part of the morning today going over my list of people I've wronged in my life. Someone from junior high that I haven't thought about in years, someone from the early 90s who I led on, someone who really needed me when she was down and out and I wasn't able to be there for her... You get the picture. I hate all the shame I feel when I think about the things I've done. I guess if anything, it shows that I've grown some since those experiences. I hope to hell I've learned something about how to treat people. I know I have a lot more learning to do, though, just looking back on my recent history. I'm going to be 43 years old next week. Isn't it about time I learned how to act like someone my age?
I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm greatly looking forward to my foot doctor appointment on Monday. I'm so annoyed by the pains I'm feeling in it. The weather is starting to get nice enough out that I should be walking more than once or twice a week (at best). The times that I've been going out, I've popped a couple of Alieve tablets (or Tylenol or whatever) before leaving the house to compensate for the aches. It's mostly been working, but it's not something I want to keep doing. I hate having to take pills for anything. It's not anything I ever want to have to do. Sure, it's great to have them for an emergency back up, but as part of my daily routine...? No. Ken's on enough of a regiment of pills for the two of us.
It's coming up on 11 pm. I wanted to watch the LOST finale tonight (I was too pooped on Wednesday night), but I ended up wasting the last couple of hours playing online, getting nothing done. Ack! Maybe I'll watch it until I'm too tired to keep my eyes open. I keep hearing it's so good, but I've managed to avoid spoilers. I want to see it before I accidentally find out what happens.
It's been quite a week. I know I mentioned earlier in the week that I started the week out exhausted. Well, it didn't get any better. In fact, I don't know that it got worse, either. Just weirder, I think. I got up too early on Sunday, took no nap and stayed up way too late Sunday night. When the alarm went off Monday, I knew I was doomed. I tried going to bed relatively early on Monday night and I didn't hurt nearly as much on Tuesday. But Tuesday night I stayed up late again with all my trash tv and I really felt it Wednesday. And Thursday. This morning I woke up around 4am or so and started debating with myself if I should leave the alarm clock as is (set for 5:15am) or let myself sleep in a little while longer. I decided that I was too tired to keep doing this to myself, so I reset the alarm for 7am. (I don't have to be to work until 8:30, though I go in at 6:30 most days.) It took just minutes and I was back asleep. I managed to pull the blankets up over my head at some point after that. I only know this because Ollie jumped up on the bed and saw I was completely covered and started clawing at the blankets to uncover me. He does this to me typically on Saturday mornings when he feels I've slept too late. He wakes me up and I figure it must be almost time for the alarm. I pet him and he cuddles up with me. Then I look at the clock and I got pissy. It was 5:16. A minute after the alarm would have gone off. Little bastard. So I got up and started my day, sleep defeated. I was at work by 6:30 and everything was going pretty well... until about 9am. I started to crash. Hard. This week had finally, officially caught up with me. And that's when I noticed the clock stopped ticking. And it didn't start ticking again until about 4:30 this afternoon, coincidentally the exact time I left work. Funny that. I hate days like this. Not because time is dragging (though I can't say I'm a fan of that), but because I don't like where my brain goes. When I'm tired like this, it seems the walls in my brain collapse and all the things I try not to think about come flooding back. I spent a good part of the morning today going over my list of people I've wronged in my life. Someone from junior high that I haven't thought about in years, someone from the early 90s who I led on, someone who really needed me when she was down and out and I wasn't able to be there for her... You get the picture. I hate all the shame I feel when I think about the things I've done. I guess if anything, it shows that I've grown some since those experiences. I hope to hell I've learned something about how to treat people. I know I have a lot more learning to do, though, just looking back on my recent history. I'm going to be 43 years old next week. Isn't it about time I learned how to act like someone my age?
I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm greatly looking forward to my foot doctor appointment on Monday. I'm so annoyed by the pains I'm feeling in it. The weather is starting to get nice enough out that I should be walking more than once or twice a week (at best). The times that I've been going out, I've popped a couple of Alieve tablets (or Tylenol or whatever) before leaving the house to compensate for the aches. It's mostly been working, but it's not something I want to keep doing. I hate having to take pills for anything. It's not anything I ever want to have to do. Sure, it's great to have them for an emergency back up, but as part of my daily routine...? No. Ken's on enough of a regiment of pills for the two of us.
It's coming up on 11 pm. I wanted to watch the LOST finale tonight (I was too pooped on Wednesday night), but I ended up wasting the last couple of hours playing online, getting nothing done. Ack! Maybe I'll watch it until I'm too tired to keep my eyes open. I keep hearing it's so good, but I've managed to avoid spoilers. I want to see it before I accidentally find out what happens.
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