Remember in college when we used to go out to bars? And we’d be having fun and then I’d disappear? And about the time the ugly lights came on you’d say, “Where’s Melissa?” And then Brian would find me sleeping in a booth somewhere? Yeah, me too. Those were the days when I slept. And slept anywhere. I’m pretty sure I had acute narcolepsy. For serious. It runs in my family. Just ask my dad. Oh, sorry, he’s sleeping.
I love sleeping. It’s my most favorite thing in the entire world. There’s nothing I would rather do. I would rather sleep than eat. I even dream about sleeping when I’m sleeping. I’m so Inception, right? Sure, I’d go to school naked for some of that sleepy-time magic juice they use. Wait, is this real life? Not sure. My reality is a full-on Monet: far away it’s okay, but up close, it’s a big old mess. (That was way harsh, Tai.) My days are all blended together because I haven’t slept through the night since the middle of July. Napping? Gurl, please. Scarlett simply refuses to nap and always has, so why would she want to start now? Putting her down for a nap is on par with forking out my own eyes or eating organ meat. Yesterday, I spent an hour and a half today trying to get her to sleep. Not a chance. So, when I’m not wearing sweats or pajamas, I’m wearing my cranky pants. Right now, they’re the only pair I have that fits. But since I’m awake all the time and too tired to eat, I must be burning up that baby weight, right? I’ll be wearing normal-person pants in no time! Boo-yah.
As we already know, I’m crazy. Do I really need to add sleep deprivation to mix? (If you guessed A, you are correct.) Oh, and did I mention that I’m anemic from my C-section? No sleep + anemia = super cray cray. I like to think of myself as a high-functioning zombie mom who subsists on the blood of coffee beans. Hold on! Let’s add to the drama a perpetual caffeine-withdrawal headache and a cramped neck courtesy of falling asleep while sitting up and nursing. At least the searing round-ligament pain in my groin went away. Really, this stuff writes itself.
So, I have like 10,000 things to do, and I’m simply too tired to do them. Oooh. Gonna call me out on being too tired to write this blog? I don’t start therapy until next Friday, so I need something to get me through, don’t you think? It’s only fair. But let’s not go to sleep angry, okay?
What? You just woke up? Shhhh, you’re so pretty.
P.S. I love you.
P.P.S. And Madeline Kahn. If you want your mind blown, listen to her sing this.