After I left you last night, I went straight to bed.
And got very very comfortable.
Don't you love it when that happens? When you're in the perfect position and completely comfortable and you wonder if maybe a shift this way or a limb moved that way might improve your level of comfortableness, but then you decide, no, nothing could be better than this exact moment of relaxation perfection.
"Surely falling asleep will be a snap, seeing I am so comfortable" you say to yourself.
"I am so relaxed. And comfortable," you say to yourself 2 hours later, "why am I not asleep?"
So, yes, despite being relaxed and comfortable, I ended up with less than 6 hours of sleep again.
When I left for work, I uncharacteristically locked up the house pretty tight. All doors, including the garage doors were locked for probably the first time in 3 years. My kids would have hated it, but I don't like coming home to a house that isn't 'secure'. In a perfect world, (and one of the reasons why I bought this particular house), I'd be parking in the garage. Just drive up, have the garage door open, drive in, close the door behind me before anyone can sneak in ... then safely enter my house from the garage into the hallway.
Unfortunately we live in a fallen world and Clint has transformed my garage into a photo studio of sorts.
So I park in the driveway.
And with him using my Durango (and my full key chain) I've got my dad's truck keys on one chain, and a single loose house key on it's own ring. I used that single key to lock up every door.
I worked a longer than usual day because, well, I didn't have kids to pick up from school at 2:30 and holy cow! I'm going to Mexico next week. And There's SO Much Work To Do. I got home at 4:30, kinda wiggling because I had to go to the bathroom. As I sat there in my dad's truck in the driveway, I realized my single house key was on my desk at work. And for the first time in 3 years, every door to my house was locked. And I had to pee.
Praying that at least one of the windows was not locked, I walked around to the back of the house.
One of the family room windows did not have the slider thing all the way down. All I had to do was remove the screen, get a lawn chair out of the greenhouse, slide the window open, climb over the window box that had 3 inches of stagnent water in it, somehow move the bliinds and curtain out of the way, do the splits to get one leg inside while the other leg balanced on the plastic chair, and then hurl my body onto my family room floor without peeing myself. All this while wearing 'work clothes'.
I did it.
Then had 2 minutes to pull myself together because I was meeting friends at the White Spot at 5 pm for supper before seeing a movie at 7 pm.
I changed, threw on another layer of make up, didn't bother with my hair, and then walked around the house, wishing I could lock it up again. But without a key, that would be pointless. I was NOT going to climb through a window at 11 pm. It was a toss up ... should I leave the front door unlocked? Or the back garage door? Which would be safer?
I decided to lock the front door. I flicked on the outside lights, so there'd be some indication that people lived in my house, but nothing happened. ALL three outdoor fixtures had burnt out bulbs? What're the chances? I added "change lightbulbs" to my mental 'to do' list, and left. Bummer that I'd be coming home to a dark, unfriendly house.
Or would I?
I knew that Clint had a doctor's appointment booked for tomorrow afternoon, so I assumed he'd be coming home at some point this evening. However, he did not respond to my email message requesting info on his plans. So, maybe he cancelled his appointment, or maybe he was going to drive home tomorrow. I didn't know. So, a little part of me hoped that when I got home, Clint would be here and lights would be on, and life would restored to my quiet house.
Anyway, I met my friends for dinner. And talked them out of Enchanted, and into PS I Love You. It is SO satisfying to sob with girlfriends.
We chatted in the lobby for awhile afterwards, and then two drop dead gorgeous girls walked into the theatre.
"See those two over there?" I say to Marg.
"See those two over there?" I say to Marg.
"Uh huh" she replies.
"I'm going to a sleepover tomorrow with them."
"WHY would you do that?"
"Uh, well, I've been blogging about sleepovers n crap - so I've been invited to join a bunch of moms and their daughters to a pajama party sleepover. And they're going to be there."
"I told them I was all talk. When push comes to shove, I need my own bed. In my own room. They're going to respect that. Apparently."
We parted company, promising to meet up again in February for another movie.
I got home at 10:30, walked past the garbage cans I'd set out at the side of the house as a hindrance to someone walking there, went to the back of the garage, opened the door and flicked on the light. It didn't work. Another burnt out bulb? Holey Hannah, what's with all the burnt out bulbs?
I took baby steps across the garage floor, bumping into things the whole way.
Feeling a little apprehensive, I opened the door to the hallway and stepped through with a sigh of relief.
Then I entered my family room and saw: