Thursday, December 6, 2007

Hey, at least I'm not telling you about the dream I had.

I am full of ire because I did not sleep last night. Or, rather, I did not sleep enough. I went to bed too late after watching Project Runway and working feverishly on the jewelry inventory. I am super ridiculously stressed out about the weekend which I'm guessing didn't help, but when I finished reading my bedtime chapter, Chapsticked up and turned off the light, my brain kept on keeping on. And on. And on. I just lay there buzzing. I tried everything but I was just THERE. I think I did doze off for a minute because when I finally got up to seek out the Benedryl (bless it's cold, pharmaceutical heart) I was, for some reason, under the impression that I'd just walked through the web of a gigantic spider and shrieked out loud while beating it away. Nice! I enjoyed that extra little insomnia mind-fuck.

Then I didn't find any of the Sweet B so I went back to bed and Kenny, who is up half the time anyway, came and brought me some homeopathic hippie sleep pills which, I'm happy to tell you, didn't do shit for me. Finally around 3am, I dug some dusty Benedryl out of my purse and happily slept for the next three and a half hours. THATS IT. I've spent the entire day feeling like i was swimming in a sea of Jello. Slow and blurry is where it's at today. Sllooooow and bluurrrry.


  1. Hate when that happens. We're all just such happy campers. But I did enjoy PR!

  2. Thanks for not doing the dream thing. I know *I* sure do appreciate it.

  3. How rude of me! I also meant to say that I hope you sleep better tonight.

  4. You need a bottle of BB.

    Bedside Bourbon. It'll do the trick every time.

    Gives you wicked screwed up dreams, but at least you'll sleep.