11:43 pm. I really want to write, but man, I have nothing in my head. Just got done watching, "The Holiday" while eating an entire bag of popcorn. I was going to put it down, but I wasn't able to until there was nothing left. Truth is, I desperately want to go to bed, but I am slowly developing a phobia of my bed. It's actually more a phobia of bed-time. Nighttime. It's terrifying for me. I'm EXHAUSTED, but my body doesn't want to allow me to indulge in such a luxury as sleep. And it is a luxury. The nights last so long and it's painful to just sit in bed while my legs twitch uncontrollably. So, I take baths in the middle of the night, I try to sleep sitting up, I have a million pillows surrounding me and just when I'm about to go under, my heart starts palpitating and I find myself gasping for air. So, I wander the house until I can start the process over again. Some nights I'm on the couch, and others I'm on my knees with a couple pillows under my belly. I wouldn't recommend that position, by the way. It's a killer when you try to move your legs after you've been that way for a while. OUCH! When all of those things get old, I rub peppermint essential oil all over my hips and thighs until they start to tingle and I can't feel them any more. That works sometimes. My bed smells very festive.
When I'm not ailed by those physical things, my mind kicks in one for the, 'Don't Let Her Sleep' team. Last night Brian and I had the "what-if-I-died" conversation. Wouldn't recommend it. Especially if you're someone like me who dwells on conversations too long after they're over, and also has way whacked out dreams and thoughts her third trimester of pregnancy. We hammered out all of the details, I gave him my specific rules for when the time does actually come that I kick the bucket. When we were done, his merciful brain let him drift into slumber and mine received an overdose of stimulants.
Back to the bath. This time with a small book of ancestral life-sketches. I read about Nettie again. She is so amazing and my life is so easy compared to hers. I wrote about her a very long time ago, but that post is somewhere deep in the many pages of my blog archive. And I'm not going to go searching for it. I'm trying to come up with a name for the baby. We're having a hard time deciding and I want it to be meaningful. We thought we had one and now we're getting cold feet with it. So, I'm back to the drawing board. Luckily, reading about Nettie and trying to decide on a name for our little girl took my mind off of me and my kicking the bucket.
Time to try and sleep again. Just when I was about to go under, Elle called out from the bathroom that there was no more toilet paper.
The universe is seriously out to get me. Team, 'Don't Let Her Sleep' is winning by a landslide!!
Tried again, but was unsuccessful. Went to the couch. Went back to bed. Sat up and waited for morning. What's my point in all of this? I'm not sure.
Oh! After just reading this obnoxious post, I'm writing about why I have a phobia of my bed and why I am up right now writing a bunch of unimportant details. Which has actually been beneficial on my account because now I am tired and ready to go to bed.
Let's hope I don't have this happen too many more times. One waste of a post is enough.
Wish me slumber.
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