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» Monday, May 11, 2009The Sunday Night Conspiracy
It's usually about not being able to fall asleep on Sunday nights, but not alwaysbut there always seems to be a conspiracy about us getting any more than four hours sleep on a Sunday night. Case in point: We were in bed moderately ontime and I assume both fell asleep immediately, since I can't speak for James, and sometime after four I awoke with a dry throat. I managed to rouse enough saliva to keep from getting up, steadfastly refusing to look at the clock, thinking it was probably twenty minutes of six and I had only a few sleeping minutes left.
I was just about to fall back to sleep when there was a rumble of thunder. Then a second one. No dog. Good!
RUMBLE! "Bark, bark, bark, bark!"
Sigh. I finally looked at the clock. It was 4:45. Oh, good. Some more time to sleep if Wil will ever be quiet. James finally "barked" back and she went silent.
I hit the snooze alarm twice and darned if I didn't fall the second time right into REM sleep: two pretentious voices psychologically analyzing a song in depth was on the radio when James walked in the room and asked "What's that?" I said, "Oh, some music showcheck out what they're analyzing!" and "Escape" (the "Pina Colada" song) started playing!
By the time I drove to work the clouds were in tatters, although the weather report indicated it was still raining south of town and there was a drizzle downtown. The best part of the ride was passing Cumberland Mall into the little hilly area amongst which office buildings are scattered: there was mist pooled in the hollows giving the area a dreamy quality.
I'm wearing my new shoes and my feet feel stiff and regimented. At least these fit so I can wiggle my toes. I always remember my first week at school every year with new shoes. They were always suede Hush Puppies made of the softest leather and back then HP still made wide widths in small sizes (size 6), so they actually fit. Still, I had to wear Band-Aids on my small toes and on my heels for at least the first week or I would come home with hellacious blisters. And people wondered why I hated buying shoes!
Ah, yes, and here it is thirteen hours after dinner last night and I'm still tasting pizza...