Don't Wake Me Up
3/26/2004 12:43 PM
Today’s title comes courtesy of a Pat McCurdy song. I thought I would take a moment to describe some of the activities that happen at our house. Before the "ewwws" and "ucks" begin let me say this post is completely G rated and there is no "monkey business" as Sergeant Schulz would say. I sleep deeply...I didn't used to think so but according to me wife I can even take a pretty good punch in my sleep. As such it takes me a good while to come out of my slumber. If disturbed, I can do some pretty odd things in that semi conscious state. If I've taken a sleeping pill expect the to odds of hilarity triple. Remember that asshat that killed his wife but said he was sleep walking and didn't remember a thing about it. Well...I'm starting to give that a little more credibility.

Buffet & Sominex
I went to see Buffett a couple summers ago and crashed at a friends house. Slept for crap. Woke up hung at first light climbed into RAD 1 and headed home. That night I wanted to get to bed early. Took a couple of sleeping pills and crashed. Kendra woke me up a couple of times in the night for snoring general mumbling. At one point I told her that I was going to walk over to another part of the "parking lot to look at some stuff and people watch." Apparently I had such a good time at the show I was STILL there. Then the capper. As I got up to pee she asked me to bring her a Kleenex back for her. This is what I retrieved...

No Kleenex.
1 hand towel (flopped over my arm like a waiter)
3 Long sheets of toilet paper placed over hand towel.
4 aspirin
1 band aid

Then in the reckless abandon that is my will to always be right. I insisted that these are the things she asked for. Somewhere during the ensuing laughter I snapped out of it and wondered what the hell I was doing.

Midnight snack
I never used to eat in the middle of the night and to be honest it always mystified me. How people with a mouthful of sleep gunk could plop themselves in front of a fridge was beyond me. But that was as a kid. As an adult in the world of today, I know how stress=eating and I have found myself staring into the gaping maw of the icebox at 1 am. I usually stand there in my pajama pants eating muffins or a sandwich reading Newsweek or Sports Illustrated. I recommend this because you won't remember reading them later and you'll double your value on a magazine. Again if I were SERIOUS about losing weight would I do this? No. My answer to that is a simple...I don't give a shit. It makes me feel good and dear readers if something like these small things make you feel good...do them. My mom passing taught me on valuable lesson. We spend far to short of time on this spinning rock. Saving up the little pleasures till later sucks and it rarely pays off. Have a little ice cream, drink a little whiskey, do a little dance. At least that’s how I rationalize eating a turkey and cheese tortilla at 1 am. This leads to my next intriguing middle of the night practice...instead of putting things back were they belong I find new places to put them and curse later when I have no idea how my shoes end up in the bathtub. Its bad enough when I do it and discover. Its worse when Kendra finds them...I can feel my ears burn and I just take whatever item I have put on top of the china hutch back to where it belongs. So, Kendra opens the junk drawer and pulls out a wilted pack of Swiss cheese and just looks at me with "WTF?!!!" written all over her face. I think I did a good job of covering up for it by saying "Does it not belong there?" and snatched it from her hand. I better say something else to cover up my stupidity..."Do you think this is still good?" Genius. "Probably...When did you...WHY DID YOU PUT IT IN THE JUNK DRAWER?!" Apparently my ruse had failed.

So look forward to more nocturnal adventures. Maybe I'll tell you amount the time I ran away from home when I was 4 at 4 am in the morning.