The Way Things Are



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right? I said, right?
2004-02-16, 9:56 a.m.

Weekend update:

Friday, after the drama that was David's birthday present, I picked up Lil Guy and we went on home. It was cold and drizzly. A crockpot of white chicken chili was waiting for us, and we all ate to our hearts' content the nice hot soupy stew that's full of white beans, green chilies, and shredded chicken goodness.

Lil Guy and I fell asleep on the couch while DW played Meda1 of Honor...til 12:30! How does he stay awake for that? When he began blinking again at 12:30, he noticed that it was snowing, and snowing hard. He woke us up and we all stood at the front door watching and listening to the falling snow. It was so heavy and wet that it made plopping sounds as it hit the yard.

Of course, by now, I was awake, so I stayed up til about 3, sitting at the kitchen table eating a poptart, drinking milk, reading a magazine, and watching the neighborhood children and adults realize there was snow out there. It is a bit surreal to be sitting at your kitchen window in the middle of the night, watching the neighborhood wake up and go outside to experience the once-a-decade occurrence. Maybe more like once every 20 years. I think the last measurable snow was 1985.

Saturday, after Lil Guy and I got his friend, we all went out to the property. DW and Don trimmed tree limbs, LG and friend rode the golf cart and shot the bb gun, and I hauled scrap lumber, cut limbs, fallen limbs, and assorted construction garbage to the burn pile. Worked my ass off for 3 hours, and even felt that tingly itchy feeling on my fattiest parts that tells me I'm getting blood circulation in places that have sat dormant for a while, and thus must be burning some fat.

We went home about 4, and were at the catfish place by 5, where I aquired some new fat to redistribute on my squishy bits. When we got home, I was very very tired. To stay awake, I went to the grocery store. I gotta say, the time to hit the store is 8 on a Saturday night. Lame, yes. Crowded, no.

I was in bed asleep by 9:30, and slept til 8 Sunday morning. A mere 10.5 hours.

Which might explain why I could not sleep last night. I tossed about til at least midnight - the last time I looked at the clock, woke up sweaty and cold at 2:30, woke up again at 3, and finally gave up at 3:30. I was keeping DW awake, so I got up and started a coffee/laundry marathon. Even got some work done - must remember to check those items off my todo list.

I baked some delicious ribs for dinner last night - a sauce/glaze of peach preserves and mild salsa. Sweety, meaty, spicy, tangy...what more could ya want?

My poor sleep has been caused by a trick my mind plays on me. Don't be afraid when I refer to my mind in the third person - there is one renegade brain cell whose mission is to ensure that I don't sleep. It's the brain cell that whispers "...property taxes...bankruptcy..."

I mean! This one property consisting of 504 housing units, rival gangs, rampant property taxes, and a deadbeat cpa. What the fuck? I need to get this whole clusterfuck out of my life, out of my workload, off my desk, and out of my head.

So I'm off to get all my shit filed away, get my office cleaned up, keep moving so I'll stay awake, and rid myself of this todo pile. What were we thinking? I won't sleep again til I face it head on - it's the denial and procrastination that cause the anxiety problems anyway, right?

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