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Monday, Sept. 23, 2002 / 8:17 p.m. ~Been Bitten By Bed Beasties~ I am SO tired. I feel like I haven't slept in days. That kind of tired where as long as you keep moving you're okay, but as soon as you stop, well, it hits you. It's behind your eyes, in your neck, and your limbs feel light as feathers. That's how it feels. I only went to bed around 2:30 or 3:00 this morning. It's not that bad. I just get all turned around on the weekend. I mean, I never intended to stay up until 6:30 Saturday night, Sunday morning. And I never intended to sleep until 4:00 or whenever yesterday. I do this every weekend though. Almost without fail. I turn it all back around, back asswards. I know why too. It's natural to me. I am a night person. I'm much more comfortable sleeping all day and staying up all night. It's what my body wants. Not that I can't deny it, I surely can, but why would I want to? See, that's the point. I don't want to. But Monday I pay. Every Monday. Today went by so fast I can't even remember it. Two people out, the phones slow as molasses, the paperwork steady. I read, I processed, I talked on the phone, I talked to the 'new boy', he actually asked me how my weekend was. No one ever asks me that. Not anymore. I evaded the question, but later I told him about the Yahoo! chat, the game of Hearts I played with strangers. Turns out he is ranked as some Dominoes champion, online anyway. Wow. We traded 'screen names' and we'll see what happens. I kind of like this guy (not like THAT, get your mind out of the gutter), I hope he stays. He's easy, you know. Oh god, "...easy like Sunday mornnnnning". I'm punchy now. I've had peanut butter and strawberry preserves (lunch), and popcorn (dinner). All that shopping, all that food, well, it's gone. Funny how that happens. I look in the fridge and say, to no one in particular, "Hey, what happened to ALL that FOOD?!", and I answer me, "....I ate it". Funny that. This is unrelated, so what's new?, but I awoke to itching on my thigh. My thigh itched, I scratched, I looked down to see red bumps, a bunch of red bumps, all in a cluster. Something snacked on me while I slept. Isn't that unsettling? I changed my sheets yesterday.... maybe something had settled in there when they were still piled in the laundry room. Unsettling, again. Did it have to munch on me? Had it the need to graze upon my thigh? I saw the spot on one of my very many visits to the loo (I like saying that, the loo) at work, and was surprised at how very awful it looks. But it no longer itches so I guess I'm okay. I need to shop, again. Maintenance. The bane of my existence. It must be done continuously. If it's not the cats and their litter box, and their food, it's my food, it's the cleaning, the dishes, etc. Life is a constant struggle to clean up, to feed ourselves and those for whom we care. Hmmmm..... interesting. Yeppers. Clearly I'm very loopy, punchy, overly tired, etc. I am going to heat my frozen Shumai dumplings in the microwave and pig out. Dang it if I didn't just get up to go look at the package to see how to spell Shumai and I reached to scratch my thigh and it started itching again! You know, scratch it and it will itch more. Fuck me! Now it REALLY itches. Fucking beastie feeding on me while I sleep. Bedbugs. Fucking bedbugs. Don't let the fucking bedbugs bite, yeah, right! I was ASLEEP, what could I do? Oh, right, frozen Shumai. I'm not totally without food, it's just that all the fresh stuff is way gone, or needs to be thrown out, you know, the leftover parsley, the lettuce (I only made one salad, the rest was for sandwiches.... hey, it's just ME eating all this stuff), the celery. I made a good effort with all that food though. And, I've decided the next trip will involve shopping for specific ingredients to follow recipes, to make specific recipes that I love, or want to try. Exciting! I love to cook, really I do. I've loved being in my kitchen so much lately, Gladys sitting on her box keeping me company, Norman with just her two front paws on the floor, the rest on the carpet just outside the kitchen. Cleaning as I go, using my knives, my cutting board, fun! I do ramble. I'm hot and tired and sick of typing, so it's a quick proofread and this is it. La dee da. (itch, itch, itch!) Cost of the War in Iraq
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