Night Owl

Way back when, when I was young, and unafraid...and dreams were made and used and wast--

Oh, sorry, not my story.

Anyway, way back in college, I developed this magical ability to stay up super late, and then magically wake up at a reasonably early hour the next morning, no worse for the wear.

It was awesome.

(I could also consume large bags of chocolate without gaining an ounce, which doesn't work anymore, sadly. My greatest regret in life is not enjoying those bags of chocolate more...)

It was an astounding feat, since in high school, if I didn't go to bed by 9 PM, I was a sluggish wreck the next day.

Anyway, when I got married, it all caught up with me, and what with my hormones finally balancing out (sort of...I'm still working on that), I suddenly became an old, crotchety mess if I didn't get enough sleep.

Then I had kids.

And sleep became a magical island just off in the horizon that periodically would shift about, coming closer to shore, and then would whiz off with a gravely laugh when I would try to reach it.

So, I've gotten used to having minimal sleep.

Well...no...I haven't. I'm still an old, crotchety mess, but my kids are used to it, and I manage to limp along until nap time, when I can zone out and eat graham crackers and scroll through endless pages on Pinterest.

And because I'm a stay at home mom, after the kids are in bed, I want to stay up late and decompress, and start the cycle all over again.

So, many an evening will find me and Jeremy worshiping the television as Patrick Stewart prances about on his starship.

It never seems to help me decompress, though. I feel anxious, and want to keep staying up late, squeezing every last second out of my day, until all that is left is a warm, empty, pulpy, crushed peel. Even so, after the whole day is used up, I tend to borrow from the next day, which adds a whole new level of crank to my already dazzling personality.

As some of you know, Jeremy left on a business trip this morning (and to all you psycho stalkers out there, no, that isn't your cue to come and murder me in my sleep. Remember I have two guns, and between those two things, I can probably manage to let off a few rounds that may or may not hit you, but will surely make you back up a little, and if they don't, I will just wildly swing my husband's rifle at you and bludgeon you to death. You have been warned.). I managed to get a lot done today, and even managed to handle dinner time all by myself (no small feat with 5 little people who like to wander during meal time). I looked forward to my evening with some trepidation. What would I do??

I had all sorts of stuff I could have done, but I sat down and watched "Steel Magnolias," not because I particularly like "Steel Magnolias," but because it's as much of a chick-flick as has ever been created, and since I'm a chick, I thought it was fitting, since I didn't have a man to watch manly stuff with.

The movie ended at 10.

And I half-heartedly thought maybe I'd pop in another movie...

I mean, I am a night owl, after all....right?

I could have poured myself a bowl of chocolate chips, and started a Meg Ryan or Sandra Bullock chick-flick...but...

No...

And then I realized something.

I'm not a night owl.

I stay up late, squeezing every last wretched ounce out of the day, because I want to be with Jeremy.

And he's not here.

And staying up late seems pointless.

So, I'll just go to bed.

And hoot quietly to Jeremy's pillow...

Comments

Katscratchme said…
Yeah. I stay up late to be with my husband, too...
Tina said…
You sound exactly like me but our stories ended differently. I didn't want to go to bed without Tyler so I kept staying up later and later, prolonging the inevitable so I stayed up past midnight and watched Harry Potter. Lame but then I was super tired and fell right to sleep.

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