My Addled Brain

Must get this out of the way: Congratulations to you and your man (who’s name I can never, ever remember, I suck like that) on your brand new baby girl, Heather. Trinity will be out of there and home in no time, m’dear.

About two months ago, my body finally figured out how to take a nap properly. Yeah, I know it sounds strange to say, but for years I could never, ever take a nap unless I was deathly ill, and sleep was all that stood between me and death by ruptured sinus. In the past, I would lie down, close my eyes, and proceed to roll around a lot in a futile effort to get comfortable. If it was warm, I’d probably start sweating. If it was cold, I’d gather enough sheets, blankets, comforters, bedspreads, quilts, afgans, bear pelts, bantha, space heaters, kindling, and whatever else that could produce temperatures warmer than the current ambient temperature in an effort to bring things up a few degrees - and occasionally futile effort, considering that the heat came on in the house for a total of 15-20 minutes a day, due to a parental decree having something to do with me not paying the electric bill - and hopefully making things warm enough so that I could start sweating. Eventually, I would fall asleep, only to awake a couple hours later confused and disoriented, unable to either form or understand complete sentences, and eventually I would grow frustrated and just lie back down, writing off the rest of the day as a loss, and sleep until the next morning. This basically eliminated any benefits of napping for me, so I tended to avoid taking them.

Things changed recently. I’m not quite sure what - maybe it’s age overcoming things, maybe it’s the ability to relax enough during the day to take advantage of what a nap is supposed to do for you, or something. At any rate, naps are now officially worthwhile. I wanna take one right now, as a matter of fact, but that may have more to do with waking up at 6 am every morning than actually enjoying naps.

I only point this out as it seems to be yet another sign of aging. I didn’t think that becoming 30 would sit so prominently in my mind as it has been, but there it is - like a big ol’ pimple on the forehead of my mortality. Perhaps it has more to do with my current dissatisfaction with my job - not that I don’t like the people here, or thankful for the opportunity…I just feel like I should be doing…well…more than what I’m doing now. After all, I only have 35 more years in the workforce before I’m forced into retirement. Assuming I get to that point, mind you. Damn, this must be bothering me.

On to better things. The woman and I (I really need to work on her new nickname) have been thinking about taking a trip. We haven’t decided on the destination yet, but we’ve already decided on our airline. Catching the flight out of Rattlesnake, FL sounds like fun to me.

And I would be remiss if I didn’t mention yet another American tragedy. It breaks my heart to inform you, but Rerun is dead. I suppose I should be saddened by this - after all, I was supposed to get a celebrity phone call from him for my birthday, but now I have to settle for either Lorenzo Lamas or Greg Evigan. Life is so harsh.