Inside Voices

No, I'm not *actively* trying to recapture my college days. I *promise*!

8:30 in the morning, and it's already been a roller coaster of a day. I was tired when I got home from ABC night last night, and I've been fighting a cold, so I pretty much went straight to bed. Forgetting, of course, that today was Red-Green Tag Day at Robin's school.

::sigh::

I just need to accept the fact that whenever St. Paul's has a themed Tag Day (day that they can wear normal clothes instead of uniforms), the theme is going to involve some article or type of clothing that my daughter does not own.

So at 6:15 this morning, I was faced with the ethical dilemma I believe all mother's face several times during their children's schooling years.

Do I take the easy route and be the bitch-mom, sending her to school in something *other* than what everyone else is wearing? Or do I race to the nearest 24 hour Wal Mart and try to come up with something not outrageously expensive and kill myself getting back in time for her to finish getting ready and get to school?

*And* on a day when I was committed to watching harmonyfb's youngest, did I mention that?

Yeah, yeah -- I caved. *cue rationalization* It wasn't *that* big a deal, I found a shirt for only $5, she's had a hard week, and she's coming down with a cold.

So, that brings us to raiding harmonyfb's refrigerator for something resembling food that I didn't have to work at.

My instincts were obviously working ahead of my good sense, though -- I'm beginning to suspect that it wasn't the best choice I could have made for sustenance. *g*

Ah well. At least Little Dude is sleeping late this morning. He's a wonderful kid.

Pace is not likely to slow down at all, however. Leave here at 2pm, go pick up Robin, drop her at home, grab stuff for the show, drop off Jack, set up for Gulfport, work Gulfport, go to coffee.

No wonder I decided to blow off Necronomicon . I'll be lucky if I'm conscious tomorrow.

*snerk* Okay, that was funny, thinking that I could rest tomorrow. Ex-in-laws in town this weekend, Robin has a birthday party to go to on Sunday, and Mom and I have hit scramble point to get as much accomplished as possible before Amy hits town in a week.

We're having the garage sale to end all garage sales next Saturday -- you guys are more than welcome to come.

FTR, I'm really not complaining. Venting, yes -- complaining, no. It just gets tiring going at this pace in such concentrated bursts after such a long, hopeless, depressive spell.

But I promise -- it beats the alternative, and I'm aware of that.

What do I *really* want to be when I grow up?

The longer this journey winds, the more I realize sleep is a much bigger factor than I ever gave it credit for. All through high school and college, Bridget's battle cry was "Sleep is for the weak!". We followed it religiously together -- all our writing was done in overnight brainstorming sessions. The Masterblades D & D campaign was fought in 12 hour stretches fueled by caffeine, Primatene, and fits of collectively induced insanity.

Even when we were apart, I seemed to gravitate to the so-called witching hour. Those times that stand out in my memory are the times when sleep was nowhere in sight -- chocolate hunts with Corrie, certain conventions (like the Windycon where I slept four hours in three days), and philosophical discourses on the lakefill or the street corners of Evanston.

I don't necessarily argue that the original declamation "sleep is for the weak" is suddenly somehow invalid. I just think I'm finding that like everything else in the universe, the cause of sleep-dep creates an effect that must be dealt with before the universe rebalances itself. That effect appears to be chaos and extreme disorder, and with a life like mine, unnecessary additions of chaos and extreme disorder appear to be masochism put to no good purpose.

That isn't to say sleep-dep isn't going to continue being a factor in my life. I will *always* be a sucker for a midnight movie, and there's no way I'm walking away from a good, rousing discussion at coffee shop just because I have to be awake and functioning the next morning. Just ain't happening.

I do need to start recognizing though, that peace of mind and spirit is not at all possible without a good night's sleep -- and life is much more easily dealt with whenever that sort of sleep is possible.