After a long day at work, you relish the idea of going home, putting your feet up, baking a Dejorno Pizza, sipping a delightful Diet Coke, and watching the final performance episode of American Idol. A day of running around, trying to keep your head just barely above water, dealing with crazy emotional basket cases, and babysitting little employees really makes for a long day - which only solidifies the desire for a "quiet night" at home. Plus, I had to miss volleyball, and that made me sad :( Volleyball = happy. No volleyball = sad. And that's as far as my Math goes.
When I got home 45 minutes after my shift "technically" ended and stumbled over a baby stroller in our entry way - I knew quiet evening at home was not likely going to happen. I had come to terms with the idea that American Idol was basically over, and volleyball was no longer an option, but the quiet evening of CNN with pizza and delightful beverage still seemed plausible, at least until I saw the evil that was the baby stroller! I paused at the bottom of the stairs, glaring at the stroller, knowing that there was a little rugrat running around upstairs somewhere - and within about 5 seconds of seeing the offending roll-around chair, I hear TV blasting, kids romping, and room-mates sister's voice chatting. Tear. I like kids. I like people. I like cutesyickle babies and yes, I even like baby strollers, but I really really really like, at that particular moment, to be home, in my house, sitting on my chair, eating my food, and watching my TV. All of these things were crushed with one fail "WAH!....TUNE IN TOMORROW FOR THE RESULTS...DID YOU HEAR SO-AND-SO....WAH! KITTY!....RATTLE!.." I did...however, smell pizza. Hmmm.
So I resigned that tonight was going to be an out of the ordinary noisy night when really, any other night I enjoy being around a slight bit of chaos - hanging out with others little nephews, and meeting my roomies sister. Tonight - was NOT that night however. I also felt bad I might come off as a little disgruntled when normally, I quite enjoy my roomies relatives! They're very enjoyable people! And really - the kids are pretty stinking cute. I thought I might even score some pizza, which COULD make up for the lost "quiet" evening. I go upstairs to meet and greet - then ditch my stuff in my room and contemplate how long the visitors might stay. My stomach decided that hanging out in my room, even with Hillary "The Biography" as company (that's right - I feel we've grown closer), was not going to cut it and I would have to wander about sniffing for food stuffs and mingle with "the relatives and relatives babies...one toddler...who likes the kitty...poor kitty..." I also thought if I looked hungry, yet confused and thoughtful when I perused my cupboard, they might say "hey Andrea, have some pizza yo!" Why! Thank you!
Well the pizza was mostly gone and the brother-in-law had not yet had any. Sigh. Yes yes, the food was for him and rightly so. FOILED again! However, as I began to boil eggs I chatted with the roomies, talked with the roomies sister who also has an awesome name - Andrea - and played with the two boys. Which really, did make me feel LOADS better about the day. Kids just do that. It's a power they have. They can either drive you NUTS - or make the day not seem so stressful. Luckily these mini-humans were the "life isn't so bad - it actually may turn out okay" sort. And I was offered some breadsticks - mostly cause they were the gross kind - just little tasteless bread logs. Like bread poops really. Mostly - I focused on going to bed early and getting a good nights sleep before the early AM shift. This was plausible...or was it? I WAS tired enough.
Hillary and I went to bed about 10:30 - I woke up at 11:30, wide awake, and then every consecutive hour after that: 12:10, 1:35, 2:15, 3:36, 4:35...my alarm went off at 5:00am. I tossed and turned, adjusted, stretched, got up for a drink of water, stroked the kitty, tossed some more, awoke to the tap tap tap of my blinds cord in the wind (I leave my window open at night - blows on my face and makes me feel like I'm camping. It also reminds me of London. We slept with our window open every night and it always smelled a little like city rain...ya know...the slightly soiled be getting clean kind), to the "meeeeeew" of kitty (KICK KITTY!), and the genuine humidity that seemed unendingly hovering in my room, it was hot, uncomfortable, and not conducive to any sort of REM sleep. Sigh. I hate not being able to sleep.
I got up right on time. Got to work, right on time, and sit here now - feeling the loss of sleep linger about me in dolcet phone voice and soft glow of computer screens. I'm hungry, because I ran out of SOY milk two days ago and couldn't eat cereal. I'm thirsty, because although I got up on time - I still didn't make room to stop at ye olde Maverick and pick up a..."pick-me-up", aaaaand, I hear it's going to rain today. Sigh. Maybe the babies will come back to remind me not to despair or stress - or even better, make me run around chasing and playing with them until I'm so exhausted I pass out for an entire dreamless 8 hours, content and full. I hope the baby stroller is there when I get home tonight too.