Could. Not. Sleep.
It was one of those nights. I finally fell asleep somewhere around 3:30 after much tossing and turning. I finally fell asleep – – doing the sinking-into-the-bed-one-body-part-at-a-time thing. Starting with my little toe, I made it up to my right hip and that’s all I can remember. The cats were wild as hell last night and woke me up a few times as they were chasing each other, wildly, around the bedroom. Then at 6 a.m. this morning, I was hearing the phone ring in my dream. Over and over and over. I woke up and found out it wasn’t in my dream – – looked at the TV, realized I left FoxNews on while I slept. . . so I woke up to John Kerry traipsing around some field in a hunting jackat, hauling a dead goose . . I went to answer the phone and it was my daughter’s friend.
I wasn’t very nice to this sweet girl who is calling at 6 a.m. “Steph – what could you possibly want at 6 am that you couldn’t talk to her about at school?” . . . “I wanted to know what she is wearing today.”
For this I got out of bed. “Clothes, Steph – she’s wearing clothes. Buh bye.” (I’m trying to remember a time when I might have done the same thing at 13 )
I just decided to go upstairs and make myself a coffee. So here I sit.