I wish I wasn’t feeling so brain dead while writing this… I’ve had a number of interesting thoughts that I wanted to commit to blog form, but too much sugar and too little sleep = non-functioning drivel in place of piercingly brilliant, life-altering observations … nonetheless, I am SO excited because in just three and a bit days, we’ll be flying in to Sin City to celebrate a rather important birthday milestone of mine, and to deaden a few brain cells with blazing heat and ice-cold cocktails…
I am overly tired, but so happy as I will be seeing some of my best friends for the first time in many years!! What better way to celebrate? Lots to do before then (inconsequential things like work and packing), but I enjoyed a civilised tea party on Saturday to celebrate with family and friends here.
The reason I am so tired is because beyond months of insomnia, The Husband has started a round of graveyard shifts, which sucks big time because A) It feels like I am living that Police song: “Bed’s too Big Without You” and B) I tend not to sleep well/only in short snatches when he’s not here. Since boarding school, I’ve been a ridiculously light sleeper. I’ve always had the ability to be wide awake as soon as I wake up – no matter the time, but my overly developed night senses after boarding school (which incidentally I just realised makes the fitting acronym BS) mean that any distant bang of a car door, subtle creak, wind in the tree, or small noise that is just the fridge, I imagine is a mass murderer with a penchant for Saffas coming to get me all red eyed and savagely armed with flashing steel. Said axe-murderer, by the way, has somehow managed to miracously break in without any loud bangs/smashing of glass/beating down of doors that would be really obvious to the entire neighbourhood, as well as me, asleep or awake.
The end result is that I stay up waaay too late because I am shit scared of falling asleep and being axe-murdered in my bed (that is too big without you) and somehow think that by being awake and “alert” i.e. strung out and mind numbingly tired means I will be able to prevent being chopped up by said axe murderer. Illogical, as Mr Spock might say.
Anyway, I am hoping that I am so tired, and so post-birthday tea sugar crash that I will sleep like the proverbial baby. You know, the mythical baby that actually sleeps through the night, unlike real babies. Stupid expression, really. Like “working like a dog”. Have you ever seen dogs, except for Huskies, guide dogs, and St Bernards working? Me neither.
On to Slots en Slots!
PS – If you hear any headlines about five South Africans, two Canadians, the UN, and Eric H. Holder, Jr, it’s not the punchline to a bad joke. Send a posse! And bail money…