Goodnight Sweetheart

I’m so cranky the morning after a sleepless night. I’m kind of cranky in the morning anyway, but even more so when I stay up all night with stream of consciousness never letting up. One night Al told me that I was thinking too loud and it was keeping him awake. Poor dear. Not this night though, he was so tired a train going through the room wouldn't have woken him.

Well, I do have a lot going through my mind. My thoughts kind of went like this:

I’ll be glad when this inspection is over so that Al will relax some and then he can take over some of the worrying I’m doing about the trip to Italy in Oh my God less than 2 weeks. I wish I could figure out what to wear for that trip. The weather is going to be pretty nice, I think, but still warm enough for short-sleeved shirts. I know I have to cover my shoulders in some cathedrals and museums and I think that goes for knees, too. So does that mean I can’t wear the short skirt? Probably. Maybe I should just take a long skirt. Should I wear a skirt at the party Saturday night? The last party we threw, one of the women said she didn’t know she should dress up because I looked dressed up. But I wasn’t. Oh well. Maybe I’d be more comfortable in capris anyway. But that sundress fits better now, but then I really would be over dressed. But Al wants this to be a cookout, which means I’ll be outside most of the time with the food. Usually Al would do that but scotch trumps burgers, so he’ll want to be downstairs educating people on the wonders of the single malt. Except for the kids. The kids. Last time we had a party for Al’s office we had over 40 people come. And that was without kids. It’s not that I mind kids coming, it’s just that they get bored so quickly. Since we don’t have kids, there’s nothing for them to do besides watch movies. How many movies can they watch before they’re bored out of their skulls? Will they even get through one? The last time we had kids around they had more fun throwing things down the laundry chute, then screeching and running down the stairs to the laundry room. Oh shit, if they’re going to be up there again, I really should make sure the sex toys are hidden. That would be embarrassing. Probably shock some people, too. Might even change Al’s call sign, even though he really likes “Single Malt.” I guess the kids could hang out in my craftroom. I could get out stamps and markers and paper and scrapbook stuff. I should probably remove those books on witchcraft. No one would actually ask about them and then wonder about my dark side instead of reading the story I’ve been writing about a family of witches. Not that I’ve done any work on it in a long time. *Sigh*

And on and on and on. Usually at times like that I just get up and watch tv or read. But then there are nights like last night that I just toss and turn and listen to the shades twack against the window frame because the fan is aimed at it. Al slept through it, though. I envy that type of sleep. I usually hit that type around 4 to 6 in the morning.

But I have a new theory. It was the full moon. I’m serious! I’m going to start tracking these nights that I can’t sleep, and I bet they correspond with the phases of the moon. Maybe I could blame my mood swings on it, too.

Well, whatever the reason, I’m tired today and have a very long list of things to do, so I should probably get busy. Although, this couch is awfully comfortable. Maybe I’ll just close my eyes for a couple of minutessssssssszzzzzzzzzzzz.