Last night a friend (J) and I did a thing where I rented a van and went to a place(Methuen) to pick up a dresser and then bring it back to the Man's house and we were rewarded with delicious Chipotle burrito bowls with chips and guacamole. Then I was tired so we went to get coffee.
That may have been a bad idea. I should probably limit my caffeine intake after, say, 6pm. Not so much because it prevents me from sleeping all night, but because it allows me to stay up until 11:30 like most adults and I KNOW that I will just be violently MEOWED awake by the BAD CAT WHO IS BAD at a little after 3am. That means about 3.5-4 hours of sleep and that is simply not enough. My head hurts and my shoulders hurt and my water bottle trigger finger is strong and muscly*.
This is an open letter I composed at about 4:15am:
Dear Conan the Destroyer,
I am full of rage-y hate-yness right now because of YOU. Stop moving around - jumping up on the bed and walking on my boobs and swatting at my clock and then scratching at the closet doors. The Closet Troll doesn't want to be your friend. Accept that.
Also: SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!
Love,
JerkMama
P.S. I'm 99% sure the Man will kill you if you don't let me sleep tonight.
P.P.S. I'm just saying. Watch your back.
Soooooooo, yeah. That's how stuff is over here right now...
*Yes, science geeks. I know that fingers can't be muscly.
1 comment:
I thought M was going to be the one to drink the coffee, I swear! D'oh!
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