A post about nothing.

I haven't been sleeping right lately. By "right," I mean not like me. I used to be able to go to bed at 9, wake up at 10, and take a two-hour afternoon nap without missing a beat. Now I'm lucky if I'm asleep before midnight and I hate it when the husband comes to bed before I've even worked out the antsiness of the day by reading a chapter or two of whatever (usually) Stephen King book is on my nightstand or writing ... something like this.

Getting up is no problem, and I'm glad for that. I wake up naturally between 5 and 6 unless Katherine has other ideas, though thankfully she rarely does. She's been very reserved with her free thinking thus far, and yes, I realize I've just condemned myself to a night of ups and downs for feedings and Miracle Blanket jailbreaks.

There's just so much to do at night. Things I didn't do during the day that I kept meaning to do. Dishes to put in the dishwasher, for instance, or spit-up-stained clothes to wash. Apropos of nothing I just brushed my dog. It's 10:20 p.m. I have too much energy and too little time. AND too much to do. It's quite the conundrum.

I no longer have to pick out clothes for the next day because I just grab something pseudo-presentable that is not likely to get points and stares when I walk Alex to school. I've realized it's pointless to shower until I come back from doing that, at least until blessed fall graces us here in the far reaches of Hell. (Though that's not altogether fair; we had quite a lovely day today, and no, I am not going to blog about the weather.)

Katherine slept pretty much all day today, with the dual exceptions of when I took her by my (now-former) office and she demanded to be let out of her stroller (she was hijacked by the president of the company for a least an hour while I sat there afraid to tell her I had to go even though she no longer holds my livelihood in her hands) and then decided to turn on her fuss the second a friend came over to visit. Lessons learned: When you bring a baby into an office populated primarily by women, block off a chunk of the day and bring a bottle. And keep friends like mine, who understand that babies cry sometimes and it's neither a reflection of your failure as a mother or the baby's bad attitude.

I'm tired now, but not sleepy. Tomorrow I have nothing to do all day so I plan to get lots of work done. I realized I've also just condemned myself to a day of writer's block and lethargy, if not a cranky baby to boot.

Tonight I'm looking forward to the weekend, and beyond that to a girls' beach trip in the offing. If any one of you backs out, I'm going to personally beat you up.