OK, the only thing we can agree on is that one of us is being a dick in this situation. Of course, we can’t agree on who the dick is… just that one of us is.
The boy is still on his exercise kick. Which means that his damn alarm goes off at 5.45 in the morning. Unfortunately, my wonderful insomnia means I don’t fall asleep until at least 4, and I’ve gone from 3 or 4 hours of sleep to less than 2.
So I suggested he should go to the pool at a different time. Apparently, this makes me ‘petty’.
So, who is the dick? Me, for wanting him to change the time he exercises, even though it’s less convenient? Or him, for wanting to get up so early, even though it means I’m not getting much sleep?
By the way, my current solution is to just sleep in the spare room. I at least get half an hour more then, because I don’t wake up until he walks outside just after 6. Apparently, this solution is also ‘petty’. Heaven help me, I must be the biggest bitch out!
Sure, I should feel some sense of gratitude that you keep my food cold, and you keep my wine cold, and my juice cold, and my coke cold.
But why the fuck will you not shut up and let me sleep?
Seriously… my fridge makes those really loud, really angry growly ‘Ooooh, I am trying to cool shit’ noises ALL night. Noises which get disproportionately louder between midnight and 6am.
If my fridge was human, I’d get revenge. I’d use my womanly wiles to seduce it, to lure it in, make it think I love it… and then pull a bunny boiler. That fridge would PAY for the anger and misery it had caused, one cute fluffy animal at a time, until it broke down crying and promised ‘I’ll be quiet! I’ll be peaceful! I’ll let you get more than half an hour sleep at a time!’
But, I can’t do that.
Since it’s a fridge.
Picture credit: Shamelessly stolen from Ordinary Bot
Falling back into my old sleeping patterns from high school is, quite frankly, unawesome. Seriously, how the fuck did I get by on less than 3 hours sleep each night? I spend my time at work in a semi-daze, teaching absolute shit house lessons because I am just far too damned tired to plan. But, hey, it’s the end of term… having a screwy sleep schedule doesn’t matter, right?
So, of course, if I am sitting up ALL night, then I must be doing something, right? Well… there’s been lots of gaming. Lots of watching horrific romance films that make me cry like a baby. And a bit of chatting to people, including doing the best I can to get someone I am interested in to ask some other girl out (an Angela specialty by the way – managed to successfully pull that one off at least 3 times). Eh, I guess I just want to see him happy.
On the plus side, I am totally hanging for the holidays. Late nights, not having to work in the morning, not having to stress my poor little head for two weeks… Oh, it’s going to be wonderful. I’m flat broke, thanks to a nasty phone bill or two, but I just want to relax and think some. And maybe chill a little at the beach and work on the tan that I never manage to attain. Pasty is pretty, right?
Now, it’s most definitely time to get back to soppy movies and making myself cry. <3 And maybe thinking about what’s keeping me up at night!