Because I'm Not Sleepy Enough, Yet

It could be blamed on the energy drink, R*ckstar, I think. But, then again, maybe not. I haven't been sleeping very well lately, again. I'm reluctant to go to bed when I'm not tired or rather, sleepy enough, yet. I lie there thinking, reading, listening to the radio, watching television. Toss, turn, toss and turn again and then finally, sleep.

Only to be awake an hour or so later not remembering in full the dream that jolted me to rousing. I can only remember being chased or being the chaser . . . probably a side effect of falling asleep to too many episodes of "Burn Notice".

I try again and the pattern repeats, until finally the cats are bouncing themselves off the bedroom door, lobbying to be fed. It is 5:00 a.m. And a new day begins.

The plan was to work my way into exhaustion tonight. I wanted to fall into bed with no energy, no thoughts, but so far, I'm not there. I haven't been able to burn enough energy and equally unsuccessful at turning off the thoughts.

My cleaning effort resulted in me breaking a figurine. The few I had (not a huge knick knack fan) are falling at an alarming rate, thanks to my clumsiness and Buttah's curiousness.

I tried to fix my flat tire (on bicycle) only to find out I need a new inner-tube (maybe) but, moot anyway, since I didn't have any patches.

I played on-line, hung around, keeping my *light* on hoping a new friend would come by and chat, but alas, no...not tonight.

I played one too many games of Bejeweled on F*cebook, had to best Danielle's score. Certain folks who shall remain nameless will never be beaten, not by me anyway.

Mom called. She's having issues with her urologist, with home care agents not being able to find her street, twice in as many weeks. We won't discuss her concern that correspondence with watermarked stationery is meant to "track" her is some way. The paranoia seems worse.

And then there is work. It seems Ms. Memphis might chatter herself right out of a brand new job. I don't know if it is specifically her chatter that the owner is, "not crazy about" but there is something. He prefers not to spell it out, but I've been put on notice . . . we will re-visit the subject of Ms. Memphis, soon. He'll be looking for my (& the GM's) considered opinion . . . is Ms. Memphis a good fit?

In too few hours the cats will be clamoring for their Friskies.

'night.