Showing posts sorted by relevance for query another quality post brought to you by insomnia. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query another quality post brought to you by insomnia. Sort by date Show all posts

Sunday, November 19, 2006

another quality post brought to you by insomnia

Well, Thanksgiving part 1 is over. It was fine. Turkey, dressing, blah blah blah. Here is a tip for any of you who are living with a smoker: hanging one of those tree-shaped car air fresheners in the family room to try and hide the smoke smell does not actually hide the smoke smell. In fact, it just makes it hideously obvious that you are trying to hide said odor. Particularly when it is the "new car" scent. Good heavens. We have been home for hours and I still can't get that smell out of my nose.

Anyway, the dress was a hit!


See? Even cuter when modeled by my wee one (shoes are Buster Brown, for anyone who might be interested in that).

I'm a little hyper tonight. I was in bed already but got up because I'm in that state of bug-eyed, spastic wakefulness...you know, where your brain can't stop flipping from one thing to another and you feel all nutso. So you're getting the results of it, internet friends, because no one else wants to talk to me at 11:30 pm, including my husband who is snoring away. This is a strange feeling for me because I can almost always sleep on command...in fact, hubs teases me about the fact that I just about always fall asleep before he even comes in from brushing his teeth. Seriously! I'm a super-sleeper.

But not tonight. Which is stink-o-rama because I have so much to do tomorrow. The ironing pile is threatening to attack, the bathroom is approaching a 3rd world level of dirty, I need to go shopping for something to wear on Thursday because nothing in my closet fits me, the walls in the back hallway are spattered with ick from the dog shaking herself off when she comes in from her daily constitutional so I have to scrub those, not to mention the floor back there where we toss our shoes...and we're out of milk and the furniture is dusty and there's unfolded but clean laundry everywhere and oh my goodness I am out of control.

The funny thing is, none of this will make any sense tomorrow.

I guess I'll go google ex-boyfriends or play internet scrabble with some other insomniac. Pleasant dreams, ya'll.