So apparently I'm not 16 anymore. Or even 26. As it turns out I can't be awake for close to three hours in the middle of the night and be a functioning, coherent adult during the daylight hours that follow. Especially not when I finally fall back to sleep at 7:30am, only to be roused by a phone call from my dear sibling a half hour later.
In short, I've been in a fog all day. I WANT to do things but instead I just sit and stare. At the computer. At the television. Out the window. Whatever. If it can be stared at, I've stared at it today.
I think my biggest accomplishment was putting out the wasp trap to combat the alarmingly increasing numbers of wasps and bees floating about our back deck. I'm bothered by the idea of purposely trapping and drowning something, but I'm more bothered by the idea of someone getting stung. It's a dog eat dog world. Or a girl kill wasp world, as it were.
Oh my. I don't remember the last time I was this tired.
Oh no, wait. Yes it do. And I don't feel like thinking about that right now so I'm opting not to. My brain is so addled by fatigue I can trick it into not thinking today. I'm magic. Today, anyway.
The people next door had their concrete driveway poured today and it's very lovely, all smooth and milk chocolate coloured. And all I can think of is that since they've widened it right to the property line, in the winter they'll be dumping their now massive driveway's snow on our lawn instead of the little patch of grass that was theirs but is now concrete. I know it's a selfish thought, but I'm psychotically protective of our grass (not that you'd know it from our weed infested boulevard which suffered due to a crappy sprinkler which I finally replaced a few weeks ago). I'm glad they're up for neighbourhood beautification, but I just hope it doesn't come at the cost of my tiny patch of green.
This is a riveting entry.
Anyway, I really just wanted to say that...
You know? I don't even know what it is I want to say, so I'll just say goodbye - and hope that I sleep through the night tonight. We're going to arrange for Thomas' stone tomorrow and it'll be extremely dangerous for me to go in this current befuddled, loopy and ever so slightly crazy state of mind.
Hopefully Thomas will tell the angels to keep Lucy off my bed, or at least out of punching range, tonight so I can sleep in peace.