It was one of Those nights. I climbed into bed ready to surrender to the embrace of Morpheus and my mind squirreled into a thousand directions rather than shutting down.
I tried my old tried and true counting backward technique, but blogging kept interfering. Not that I got up and finally entered a new blog. No, this was all mental. Something like this:
79, 78 [I usually start at a random, but high, number] — How ’bout that nagging “you forgot something” moment — 77, 76, 75 — Getting ready for super-special visitors at Christmas? — 75, 74 — Did I turn off the light in the bathroom? — 73, 72, 71 — Should I spell Dianne’s [protagonist in current manuscript] name with one ‘n’ or two? After all, my sister’s name has only one ‘n’. — 71, 70, 69 — Should I relate all the machinations of turning the deflating over night Aero bed my guest used last visit into a solid King using two thick foam mattresses? — 68, 66 [so math isn’t my strongest suit–I have other great attributes!], 65 — Would anyone even believe how I built the “box springs” literally from still-full-of-books (and taped) file boxes not yet dealt with from the move from CA to NC that were stacked to the ‘cathedral’ ceiling in what should be the living room? — 64, 63, 62 — And would anyone reading my blog understand the actual ironing of the prettiest, but not permanent-pressed bedding set my sister handed down to me? — 61, 60, 49 — Well, there IS, after all, my OCD motto: Anything worth doing is worth Over Doing! — 48, 47, 46, 45 — And stuffing [read: forcing] each huge hunk of foam mattress into zippered mattress covers? By my lone self? — 44 — Or the delight in finding the matching bedskirt fit over the boxes very nicely, with only about an inch or so on the carpet? — 44, 43, 42 — But wrestling the not-so-heavy, but unwieldy mattresses into their designated places resulted in serious displacing of said bedskirt? Oooph! — 44, 43, 42 — It only took four King mattress covers, ‘donated’ from my parents’ estate or my sister’s generosity, to almost obliterate the crack between the mattresses. — 42, 43, 44 — oops — 43, 42, 41 — The absolute beauty of the crisply ironed fitted bottom sheet–in its mint green with stemmed soft lilac and white flowers, carefully placed so the stems ran vertically– HEY! King fitted sheets are SQUARE! — 41, 40, whatever — Finding the wide top hem and snapping the top sheet (so NOT wrinkled anymore!!) into place . . . only to discover the design in the flower stems ran horizontally! Rats! Did I REALLY care enough to redo the bottom sheet? No, I was Assembling, not DISassembling, and REassembling! — 38, 37, 33 — Spreading the duvet cover, so smooth, such a perfect finish!, over the gorgeous creation — 32 — Except that the comforter I wanted to stuff the duvet cover with was not big enough–by a foot on all sides! — 31 — And the only other comforter that would fit was an incredibly beautiful green and blue wavy design that I was going to fold elegantly on the ‘luggage racks’ (which will, some time in the future, be assembled into the shelving they’re supposed to be). Maybe. — 31, 30, 29 — I’ll do my Scarlett thing and face all this down another day. — 29, 28 — Maybe I can write about my perfect Eden tucked into the towering trees. — 27 — With the squirrels and birds. — 26, 25, 24, I’m getting low on numbers. Turn over, relax all the facial muscles, SLEEP! 23, 22 — Did Dianne ever take the cinnamon buns out of the over? — 21 — I need to wrap that neighbors’ gift and get it over to them. Is that poison ivy still active on the overgrown path between our houses? Is the ground still wet. Maybe I’ll drive over. Next door? Comeon! — 20, 19, 18, 17 — I should start another countdown. — 98, 97, 96 — Have I overdone the towels in the guest bathroom? I just couldn’t pass up those luxurious bath sheets–but four of them for two people? Hmmm . . . I’ll put one in the linen cupboard. — 99, 100 — nope — 99, 98 — Relax the cheeks — 97, 96, 95 — I have GOT to get the dishwasher emptied before the sink stacks up with a full load to go! — 94, 93, 92 — HEY! That comforter on my writing chair is big! Into the washer with it first thing tomorrow! — 92, 91, 90 — Should I write that down? Can I trust my memory? Nah, but too bad about that. — 89, 88, 87 — Is the DVR full? How can I get the auto-record programs to stop auto-recording? Surely I’ve seen every Murder She Wrote and NCIS and Criminal Minds by now. No, there was that one from Friday that was new . . . 87, 86, 84 — I love the How Done Its! Forensics is fascinating! Maybe I’ll write about . . . nah, the experts are better with that stuff. — 83, 82 . . .
Enough already! [See motto above!] So why is it when I even think to update my blog, unlike Minta Hall, who’s thrice as busy as I’ll ever be, and who manages entirely too regularly to entertain me with her blog , that I can sit in my glider and stare at the laptop screen and not a single thought–Did I remember to feed the cats? Was that the mail just delivered?
So how do YOU get to sleep? Obviously my method needs, on occasion, a bit of improving.
That really WAS the mail–with my binoculars I can see a box sitting on top. Later!!
I’m sure I’ve heard of the concept, but perhaps you can explain?
Well, since I obviously didn’t get any last night, perhaps you could ask your Tinkersweetie, FME (Feline Manager Extraodinaire) to ‘splain it to you. She excels, as in all things, in getting sufficient snoozies.