Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Oh, No, He Isn't ...
How did this happen?!?! How did a whole year go by, thereby bringing my baby boy to his first birthday party?
Auuuughhh!
My baby, my baby, my baby, how did you turn one? One? O-N-E!
Actually, it happens this Friday, but I'm just doing the whole mourning thing early. I want to be able to celebrate when we hold a party for him Saturday.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 7:46 PM
Monday, November 29, 2004
Winnah!
squirrel-winner-100
Originally uploaded by Rubberpants and Erpy.
Yeeha! I made it!
50,894 words.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 6:39 PM
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Minding One's Beeswax
The cat is dead to me.
We spent a good fourteen-year run together, but it's come down to a showdown between her, and Kane.
And Kane wins.
Sh'es just getting aggressive, not yet with him, but any minute now, something horrible and irreversible will transpire, and I will have to show my son what it means to be temporarily insane when one is so furious that violence is seemingly the only option. And I don't want to show my son that, because I already made him cry by showing just a little violence to the cat by throwing her out yesterday. I also freaked out the neighbor kid, who witnessed this kicking-out-of-cat last night, when he came by to give me a Gymboree coupon for Kane. I am sure a rumor is circulating aroundthe neighborhood that I am unstable. But at least I won't be asked to pet sit.
Okay, well, there is the pissing on Kane's toys. And the carpet. And this has been going on for three-and-a-half months, with more and more frequent incidents. I have been infinitely patient, cleaning it all up even though the smell makes me gag, and I have thrown out toys, because when it happens on plushie things, that's just never going to be fixed. Hell, when it happens on hard plastic things, I also throw it out, because the idea of K, who is still in his oral phase - ah, you get th idea ... We just won't traipse into that territory.
Then there is the increased frequency of hissing at Kane. It used to be only when the baby - who thought he was petting the kittie - would grab her fur. Okay, I could understand registering protest on that. But now she's doing it just when he comes into a room with her in it. Not acceptable.
You know, I'm sorry only that she feels like Kane intruded on her space. But he is my son, and she is a cat. She should've seen the odds against her and worked toward some kind of compromise in her little walnut-sized brain. But she didn't.
So now, Jaynet, a mother-in-law who is sent from up above or something, has agreed to house her. Thank you, Jaynet, because I was going to tie a steak around Beeswax's neck and let the raccoons have at it. Which may not have been a good lesson to teach Kane. So, disaster averted.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 11:28 AM
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Kane Walking
KaneWalking
Originally uploaded by Rubberpants and Erpy.
OhmyGod! Wish me luck,
people; the bug is now officially Supah Mobile. He will be fully terrorizing Beeswax by this weekend, but he's the most adorable thing ever, isn't he? I had to kiss him about a thousand times after this.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 1:20 PM
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Bug No.2
Bug No.2
Originally uploaded by Rubberpants and Erpy.
Oh, speaking of No. 2, I
got my ultrasound back Monday, to test for nuchleal (spelling) folds in the neck, and everything looks good, ie., no obvious risk of any abnormalities, so, this old Mommy is still a good vessel. The bug looked so cute, much more like a baby than its first picture, which was taken at seven weeks and posted here at Tagami Network.com.
It put its hands underneath its chin during the ultrasound, and jumped around a little bit (an no, I had no coffee that morning, though I really wanted to - Kane just kept me running until my coffee ran cold and I had to leave).
I find out the sex somewhere around K's birthday in December.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 8:40 PM
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
I've Got Blisters On My Fingers!
mobileman
Originally uploaded by Rubberpants and Erpy.
Novel writing bites.
Though it's interesting to see whether I'll actually get there to that magical 50K mark. We'll see. I definitely kicked tail today with 4,000 words, thank yew. Am now up to 14,003.
Speaking of biting: The fourth tooth took two months for my son to pop through his poor little pink gums. The fifth one took a week after that. Go figure. And now, he is biting mommy. Not viciously, mind you. But hell, it's biting, just the same. My little boo boo head. He is also walking with the aid of one of those ridiculously overpriced plastic thingamabobs that helps kids do just that. It plays a loop of inane music, but what the hell; his face when he realizes he's just walked across the living room is priceless.
God, I love him so much I just want to kiss him and hug him ALL THE TIME.
I am going to be a nightmare mommy.
Watch out, Number Two.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 8:35 PM
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Four More Years ... Of Kane Wearing the "Mommy Wants A New President" t-shirt
I am so flabbergasted. The country chose incompetence over incoherence.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 10:15 AM
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
It's Happening
My son just cried out in his sleep at the exact moment MSNBC predicted Ohio would go to Bush.
He knows even in his unconscious state that America is morphing into a theocracy.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 10:00 PM
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
Aaauuuuuggggghhh!
I am going FRIGGING insane watching these polls come in. Why can't we know instantaneously who won? Why Why why? I can't stand waiting, and if I hear George Bush gave a thumbs up from the White House one more time, I am going to vomit.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 8:45 PM
Saturday, October 30, 2004
NaNo NaNo
Yeah, the Mork reference sucks.
Went to the Mama Buzz Cafe in Oakland today to hook up with about 20 or so other local deluded - er, I mean hopeful - would-be novelists to meet and greet before Nov. 1 kicks off this here shebang. The cafe was the standard independent artsy-crowd hangout - mismatched chairs, local artists on the walls, a skinny coffee bar area and a back yard patio for the smokers - but the crowd participating in this thing was anything but - we had peeps like me (whatever that is), grad students, reporters, people who work for a living doing nothing related to writing, a 10-year-old girl, her 13-year-old sister, some twenty-somethings, thirty-somethings, forty-somethings and a few fify-ish types. Pretty impressive, if I say so. And there's supposed to be 50,000 or so of us sharing the in the frustration and creation (and possibly destruction) worldwide this year. I have one word for that: Neat.
Very mellow, cool scene. No one was pretentious or weird; it was all just a bunch of people who like to write and want to try and write a lot of words in one month - no matter how badly they are strung together. Kinda refreshing.
We're supposed to meet each Monday night from 7-9 p.m. during November to just chill out and write together (not necessarily with one another; just in the same vicinity).
Weird thing was, the woman in charge of the local get-together was a friend of Ryan's (this guy I used to work with at the newspaper) and had heard of the SF Business Times. Weirder still (but very pleasantly surprising) is, my brother-in-law is also trying this process. We'll be newbies together. I bet his book rocks. He should make it about Peter Paladin or whatever the hell that character was they (he and Phil and Rob) had made up when they were teenagers. Mmmm, Dungeons and Dragons...
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 8:44 PM
Friday, October 29, 2004
Leaf Blowers and Time
Whoever thought leaf blowers were a good idea ought to have a small outboard motor attached to their head as they're trying to sleep, which is what it feels like now as I listen to some jackarse blithely farting out smoke and fumes.
Bye-bye naptime. Great; now everyone's going to have to pay for this for the rest of the day.
It's called a RAKE! R-A-K-E!
-------------------------
On a totally different note, I finally figured out some plot thangs with my NaNoWriMoproject, which I'm pretty excited about. We'll see how excited I get as the month draws to a close, and I have to figure out how to end the thing on time and with enough words, AND feed a bunch of relatives to celebrate the white man pilfering and pilaging his way across this great land of ours.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 2:42 PM
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Boy Genius
I bent down to give my beautiful 10-month-old son a kiss this morning, and found out he had cat food breath.
Must've happened the nanosecond I turned my back to put coffee in the coffemaker this morning.
At least it was only the hard food stuff.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 5:14 PM
Sunday, October 24, 2004
The End of Civilization
Everyone, raise your hand if you have a husband/boyfriend/wife/girlfriend who is a compulsive gamer.
Yeah, me, too. He's downstairs right now with his brother and two friends, all of them playing Civilization or Ages of Empire or some world domination-type strategy game. Like they don't play that enough in the work world. Tonight, it's been 4.5 hours, and counting.
Methinks I need me a really annoying time-suck that will gnaw at the precious free time I have with my family. Other than this activity, of course.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 9:31 PM
Friday, October 22, 2004
My Choices Are Who?!?!
ohjeez.JPG
Originally uploaded by Rubberpants and Erpy.
Today, I get this t-shirt in
the mail after seeing the link for the company - lowercase tee - on a hilarious mommy and small child web site called Dooce.com
In need of a good pick-me-up, I rip the package open, slip this over my son's head, and watch him promptly barf all over it. Not my plan, but interesting, nonetheless.
I wonder what this means for Kerry? I wonder if my son will have to wear this indefinitely?
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 7:27 PM
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
What Rhymes With 'Schmuck?'
Hey, my grandma may see this post, so there's no way you'd get me to write that.
I'm losing it; I accused the hubbin of staying out late last night because he didn't like me anymore, when in reality, I know it's because he's working his cute butt off so that I can stay home with the kidnik (yeah, okay, the 16-hour work day yesterday ended in cocktails - many, many cocktails I cannot have for another six months and two weeks - but he deserves them. Drink up, Philco; have one on moi).
For crying out loud; I waggled a finger at him and said it seemed suspicious he was dressing so nice. Dressing so nice?!? In a world where appearances matter? How dare he?
I must send flowers, cook a nice meal, something. Schmuck, schmuck me.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 10:32 AM
Saturday, October 16, 2004
This is What Happens When Mommy's Misguided
drawers.JPG
Originally uploaded by Rubberpants and Erpy.
Unwillingly channeling Martha
Stewart from her minimum-security jail cell while suffering sleep deprivation, you get this. I was feeling guilty for feeling tired cooking Number 2 and not playing enough with K, so I gave myself bad advice and threw a morning's energies into making his awful-looking bureau (it was his daddy's from his bachelor days and was three different shades of undiscernible wood - I think birch - the drawers of which were the only pieces properly stained) look like this.
Perhaps I should have just played with the boy, instead, but he actually seems to like it - he loves trying to pick off the alphabet while I try to change him on the floor. It's like roping a calf, people; you try it with a nine-month-old.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 11:23 AM
Saturday, October 16, 2004
Hell, Yeah, He's Worth It
yummyslides.JPG
Originally uploaded by Rubberpants and Erpy.
C'mon; wouldn't you have
to go temporarily insane every once in awhile just to cope with this cuteness?
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 11:18 AM
Friday, October 15, 2004
Damn, I'm Stupid
Whatever made me think having two kids close together would be the best thing for everyone involved? Huh? What?
OK, fine; I still firmly believe the kids will benefit from being closer in age - they may pick at each other, but at least they won't be isolated from one another.
But this cooking thing frankly falls a little short of it all on my end. I am reminded daily that pregnancy wasn't the joyful and fulfilling end-all of my female existence that those bastards at Workman Publishing would have me believe. I was pregnant, what, nine months ago -- you would think I would remember congestion, the hair growing lustrous and then falling out, the sleepiness, dizzy spells, constipation, the magically disappearing bladder, and, oh yeah, the beautiful maternity wardrobe with the bows and tent-like lines -- all of this should have jogged some sense into me and helped me keep the swimmers at bay another two years or so.
Only nine-and-a-half weeks in, and my pants don't fit already, I need a nap every two bleeding hours, I got acne (that's new) and I can't get excited about any food (again, new). The lovebug wants to play and be merry, and I want to flop on the bed. I'm cheating him. Mommy's not too fun right now, and I can't even go numb my palate with anything stronger than root beer (which, all right, is still pretty good).
Adopt, all ye who want to have multiple children close together. Adopt, or get a pet. That'll cure ya for awhile.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 1:15 PM
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
I Like Cloth Diapers and I Don't Hug Trees
Don't get me wrong; I like trees. Big fan of nature. Love the camping thing. I just hate Birkenstocks and patchoulli, or however that reeking nasal slap is spelled. I like shoe shopping and makeup and clothes that don't have paisley prints.
I'm getting way off track.
I was trying to explain to someone today why my son is in cloth diapers. This woman said: "Oh, that'll all change once Number Two comes along" and gave me one of those dismissive waves and a chuckle, with the whole sentiment of Trust-Me-Honey-I-Speak-From-Experience-It's-Inevitable implied. My first response (she was saved by the fact that I had yet another Preggie Pop in my mouth; my words never left my brain) was: "Oh really? If I am to follow in both yours and your friends' experiences, should I then also look forward to the inevitability of my arse spreading to the size of a large turkey platter and my hair being hacked and streaked to within an inch of its life?
I know I haven't smoked in ages, so I'm not feeling bitchy from a nic fit - any trace has left my body long ago. I chalk it up to lack of sleep and some seriously bad hormonal acne producing some painful, cyst-like splotches on the lower half of my face (only one, now, thank god). Maybe I need more chocolate.
What I did end up saying to this woman was that I was sure I wasn't going to change to disposables-only once Dos popped out. She laughed again and said something about lack of time, best intentions notwithstanding, blah blah, to which I calmly told her it just freaked me the eff out to leave my boy in a disposable longer than, say, six hours a day (and by that, I mean, he gets a disposable at night right before bed and gets changed back into a cloth the first time he wakes my bleary-eyed arse up for a bottle - usually around four or five in the a.m. -- the disposable saves his bed, since he seems to have copious amounts of pee ready at the proverbial switch early in his REM cycle).
This woman actually leaned in and moved to pat my arm: "I know, I know; you're concerned about the environment, right?"
Uh, sure. More importantly, however, is the question of what do these artificial absorpancy polymers (the powder and gel placed in the diapers to soak up the pee) do when put next to your child's genitals, 24/7, for 2-3 years? That's freakish, man - they are polymers created for super absorpancy and are similar to the ones used in feminine hygiene products, and there's no way in HELL you'd get me to wear one form or another of those things - pad or tampon - 24/7 for 2-3 years (though I realize in the end, in my lifetime, I will probably wear them for nearly that long, and believe me, that does not give me a warm feeling inside). Plus, reading an article about how a firefighter - who found in another fire that disposable diapers were the only thing left intact in the smoldering wreckage that was a nursery - used the same polymer to put a ring around a house to save it from being burnt (yeah, it worked), well, that, my frosted, feathered hair friend, that put the big ol' cherry on my personal decision.
The whole manners thing I was raised on then kicked in, because I felt the uncontrollable urge to then hastily point out to her that mine was only one opinion, and was meant in no way to reflect on anyone's decision to use or not use whatever they felt comfortable with. Let's be frank; if I didn't have a service come and carry said shite away every Tuesday morning, I would have a rough time of it, too. Cost is the same, disposable or cloth (using service), so that argument isn't even one. And why, I thought to myself, am I trying to make her feel better, now?
No matter. The woman looked taken aback and kind of inched away from me and my shopping cart. Kane babbled and showed me how he got a box of couscous down off the shelf all by himself. He was very proud. He said so with a resounding, "Aaaarrrrrrrrrrrr."
Mama's proud, too, honey. Aaaarrrrrrrrr, yourself.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 1:39 PM
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
Carnivorous Gas
I learned only last week (through that kooky book everyone used to be talking about, but which I only got a hold of recently, called "Stiff") that farts are caused by the gas that bacteria expel in your intestine when they help break down the food you eat. Makes sense, but I never knew that to be the exact cause; I just assumed it was the food itself that was breaking down and causing it (this is why I never became a scientist, people - I am like the 15th century doctor believing evil spirits need to be leeched out of the body).
Anyhoo, I only bring this up because I was reminded of that phenomenon (hm, spelling? I don't knnow, and am too lazy to walk downstairs to the dictionary - plus, this Blogger spell check isn't all that) the other night, when I thought to myself that it is much more pleasant to smell fruits and vegetables being broken down, as opposed to any sort of meat.
I won't say the circumstances under which I made this observation, but will say it wasn't me (and no, it is not always true that he/she who smelt it, dealt it - god, I can't believe I still remember that phrase - I grew up around too many boy cousins).
On a related note, the book is pretty fascinating, and must have been to a number of people, since I know it was on the bestseller list awhile. I wonder how many other people felt guilty for assuming that they didn't feel adequately creepy for finding the facts on death so intriguing and informative. Or maybe the whole idea of deluding one's self into thinking that that body is a sacred vessel for the soul and should therefore never be thought of as a bloating, encrusted, infested blob (after all, doesn't sit well with that Judeo-Christian notion that you're created in God's image) is slowly eeking out of the collective subconscious of the Western world. Or maybe people are more attracted to grossness these days, what with Fear Factor and any number of reality shows and action/horror movies that rely on shock card. Maybe I need to chill out and remember I don't want to be this cynical when my boy starts asking me questions.
Other than thinking of gas and hot air, just loving the lovebug. Dealing with the California heat - in October, no less. Missing the fall foliage. Feeling a little fluffy for just saying that. Eating Fruit Loops with no shame - I haven't been able to eat much of anything for a couple of weeks now, so I'm splurging. Okay, I would normally eat this.
The boy stirs. Tokyo is not safe.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 7:53 AM
Monday, October 11, 2004
Waxing Nostaglic on Some Dead Days
I wish I could go back to the time before I started shaving/waxing/plucking. Of course, that would mean I would have to go back to the dawn of the most awkward period I ever had the horror to live through, complete with abnormal growth spurt, home-permed hair, the onslought of acne (on top of freckles -quite charming), and the birth of the Madonna-in-her-Holiday-Like-A-Virgin-phase copied by awkward teens everywhere. Yes, yes, I bought the mesh hairbands and rubber bracelets. Happy, now?
Maybe waxing/shaving/plucking isn't so bad, after all. I just wish you could wax and have it never come back. That's not so much to ask for. And you can even say that without a trace of sarcasm. I just am perplexed by biology. I mean, we're turning ourselves into a species with smaller jaws because we eat more soft and/or cooked foods, so why, after some cultures have spent centuries trying to get hair off their bodies, does the aforementioned body continue to produce? We clothe ourselves quite capably (minus the growing subset of pop star wannabe sheep who beg or bully their moms to buy them sassy little belly shirts and low-rise pants so they can start abusing the power of their feminine wiles good and early), so why does evolution insist on clinging to patches of superfluous hair? You know, the guys having nipples thing is easily explained - all embryos are born female - but I'm stuck on hair.
Perhaps I'm just pissed because I hate making appointments with people I pay to hurt me, as I just did this morning. Pain ain't cheap, either. And why do I buy into the whole picture of a hair-free body that advertisers try to sell? It's a racket I enthusiastically participate in. Oy.
Did you know: Waxing hurts much much more when you're pregnant - chalk it up to extra-sensitive nerve endings. File that one away, ladies; you'll need it later.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 11:53 AM
Friday, October 08, 2004
Da Man
Da Man
Originally uploaded by Rubberpants and Erpy.
He so rocks.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 5:20 PM
Friday, October 08, 2004
Books I Have Brushed Up Against
Words hard. Reading harder. Baby fun.
Some books I've managed to start:
"America The Book" by The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
"Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell" by Susanna Clarke
Some books I've managed to finish:
"The Curse of the Appropriate Man" by Lynn Freed
"The Effect of Living Backwards" by Heidi Julavits
Freed's book was a collection of stories showcasing every dysfunctional female yearning to be a vixen, but trapped in an ordinary shell. Pretty good in some spots, but got a little flat when it came to getting inside some characters (some you just didn't want to get near, so the distance was fine in those cases).
I bought Julavits' book because I always let curiosity and jealousy get the better of me when it comes to writing, and since I have yet to figure out this little clatch of writers surrounding Eggers and his wife, I read read read to see if there is consistency and talent behind the hype. Damn it all, I guess in her case, there is. It's pretty good. I spent my Kane nightwatch in Italy reading this, and I'd recommend it. Only flaw is (and maybe it was me on jet lag that lost it), I was confused by the wicked time travel she took - and I was unsatisfied by the conclusion - that part was very Eggeresque and muddled and affecting an air of excitement and elation and the unbearable lightness of bleck.
Still, she's got the rave reviews, while I'm here sucking on a preggie pop and trying hard not to barf (not because of her, I must assure you). The cookies kicked my arse today, friends. This much I know.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 4:24 PM
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Cookies and Steak
Cookies so kick steak's arse today. And I don't dole those words out lightly.
Food is pretty tricky today. I need it, but it is doing everything in its power to keep me away. The smell of anything savory creates a little vomity backup in the throat, so I had to retaliate with a batch of Tollhouse cookies. Screw you, digestion system - take that. Erpy will thwart the Stomach, oh yes. And the Lima Bean will get chocolate chips to boot.
Speaking of food: I had the pleasure recently of reading a Mimi Smartypants diatribe on the freakishness of Parents magazine. I was sucked into the idea I ought to get some periodical dedicated to helping me get through my first year as a new mom. Parents just happened to be the magazine some dude was selling door to door as part of some list for a charity back in October 2003, which happened to be the time I was seven months pregnant and full of good napping and bright ideas.
You ever see this mag? It's for anyone who's got an inferiority complex for either working and leaving your kid behind in the care of someone else, or for those who stay at home and feel they have to explain themselves for being a full-time mother in an age they believe is meant for women to express themselves intelllectually, emotionally and sexually in the workplace (or really, just outside the home).
So really, Parents covers the bases nicely for anyone who's feeling guilty for their choice.
I myself am too tired and happy to feel guilty for anything other than not writing nearly enough. So I am more than a little unsettled by all the conflicting advice offered in Parents - articles telling both types of moms to stop worrying and take it easy and relax, next to articles telling moms to create ridiculously intricate activities and meals and costumes and rituals with their kids - are you really going to make fruit kabobs that look like insects? Make little chocolate bats at Halloween? I am giving out bagged candy with a clear conscious; that's all I got to say about that.
Anyway, the cookies await. And really, the only reason I'm making them is because it seems easier than putting on proper clothes and dragging butt to the store for the bagged kind. I don't have to put little bat smiley faces on my baked goods, so that's a plus.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 6:06 PM
Friday, October 08, 2004
To Do Lists Are Funny
I think I had one around here somewhere, and I'm pretty sure it had some kind of note on there to water my now-brown houseplants. Thank god the cat is more vocal than the ferns, or she'd look desiccated, too.
Anyhoo, I eschewed all short and practical tasks for the long and convoluted project that is figuring out how to get my blogs directly on my web site. Done, only 24 hours later.
Yeah, my husband only thinks I know anything about computers. Only Mitch knows the truth - I rely on dumb luck and the skills of others.
So, one of my friends today suggested I make this blog about my pregnancy, since I was searching for the right book to write in in order to give a snapshot of my thoughts to my second-born. I already did one book (still in progress) for Kane, but I don't know; I dig this whole Blog idea, but I want this more for me, and frankly, who knows how long it'll stick around - I can't suppose that when Dos comes of age, Blog will still be hosting my free diary, now can I. Paper may burn in fire, but chances are, it won't.
And now that I've jinxed myself, I hear a little boy getting up -- rather crankily, I might add - from his nap.
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 1:44 PM
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Why Sleep Won't Come
I am writing my maiden blog on this fine October afternoon, rather than do the smart thing and take a nap while my nine-month-old son takes his. Stupid, I know, but the idea of time spent typing, rather than chasing and snatching, proved too alluring even for my twisted, tired back. Plus, I found some Cheerios and Ritz crackers on the bottom of my sock, and that just made me want to find out where I could have picked up the grains and breads group on my travels this morning. Answer: The bathroom rug. No, I don't know how.
Oh, I will pay, yes. For the Cheerios, no. For lack of shuteye, you bet. And yet, I say, ah screw it, use that worn out adage of sleeping when you're dead, blah, blah. Plus, I've been promising I don't know how many people I was going to start writing again (and yes, I'm aware I haven't left anyone hanging precipitiously on the edge of their seats with my sabbatical). I figure I may as well starting churning slowly now, get the rust shaken off the gears and cogs, and try to get on some other similie or metaphor that would go with the rest of that imagery.
So I'll cut this short for now and write later, if I can, indeed, post this successfully. The bed's looking pretty good now, is what I really mean...
posted by That Chick Who Cleans Up Around Here @ 1:23 PM