I'm at my parent's house. They're at church. I could say that I meant to go with them, but that would be a lie. They go to church at 9AM, and that so ain't happenin' if I don't have a calling to get me there.
This breakfast is maple pecan Bear Naked granola that mom buys on Amazon because, like me, she uses Amazon Prime and we love buying all sorts of things online that we'd buy anyhow (dog food, toothpaste, granola) and getting "free" two-day shipping (with Saturday delivery!). For Ma and me, Prime absolutely pays for itself.
In the bowl with my granola is almond milk. And a handful of semisweet chocolate chips. Because I got out of bed at 2:30AM and ripped open a bag from the food room; I couldn't sleep and needed some chocolate. I shoveled them in my trap via the rest of the Fritos scoops.
Yes. That's a real thing. And I did it. Charlie, the new rescue mutt, was sleeping in my room and was very confused by the conscious night eating complete with reassuring commentary—aimed at the both of us.
Of course—I mean, really, of course—I still couldn't sleep afterward. So I watched a few New Girl episodes on my phone. Even though my laptop was so close I could touch it. When I realized how ridiculous it is that I have watched every one of the 17 episodes at least four times each, I turned off the phone and nestled down into the bed for sleeping.
Instead of sleeping I kept thinking through an essay I started writing earlier in the day (or, rather, yesterday, I guess). All these ideas. When I lay in bed at night the wheels still turn, and I can't stop them. Tonight I wheeled through the things I have to do, the things that are stressing me some—
. . . must write something for elephant journal or I'm gonna get in trouble, must submit pieces to that competition my faculty advisor sent me, must finish that sticker design, must work through first draft of craft essay, must buy cellophane sleeves for my prints, must edit those logos, must stop eating chocolate chips in the middle of the night, must buy Wanderlust tickets, must rewrite that poem, must revise that letter, must figure out what's wrong with the garbage disposal, must stop leaving my books on the couch downstairs, must figure out how to arrange the loft, must convert the guest room back into a guest room and revamp the guest bathroom, must fix falling down curtains in my office, must stop eating chocolate chips in the night, must buy new master bedclothes already, must get new barstools, must clean out pantry, must put recipes in binder, must check paystub, must juice the rest of those vegetables before they go bad, must make my dog un-fat, must figure out how to make my skin look less old, must, must, must, must, must . . .The only way to cease the turning this time was to get that MacBook Pro within reach and put the essay ideas in black and white.
Which I did.
And then, at 5AM, I slept. Meaning I got my customary 6 hours.
When I came upstairs this morning the three furry terrier faces met me. I call them Team Sue. Now they're sunning on the deck. Why is the weather nicer on this Utah mountain than it is in my Northern Nevada home? Not fair. Where I sit at the dining table I can see Team Sue on the deck, the covered-over pool waiting for warmer weather, mountains that still have snow, and the trampoline on which I played last night with my nieces and nephews thinking, Oh, so this is what it was like at the Tower of Babel. I couldn't understand a word. I did, however, understand completely when Sam started screaming. I understood that he really hated it on the tramp. So at least we've got that going for us.