Thursday, July 28, 2011

Blame it on the Time Change

So, I was gonna write a huge, long post to catch you up on everything that has been going on in the month since I last posted.  The Move/The Trip/The Horrific Trying To Sell The House stories . . .

And I find that at 1:35am Central time that I am just too tired. Yes, I said Central Time. My body is on board with the whole time change thing, but my mind refuses to shut down when appropriate. So, while my body is on Central Time, my mind is like somewhere in the Pacific North West. Which is really odd because I have lived in the Eastern Time Zone nearly my whole life.  Which makes calling and texting "home" a real challenge.  Good thing my Mom is a night owl.  Just sayin'.

Um.  Where was I?  I told you I was tired.

What is worse, is that it has completely messed up my tv watching mojo.  Everything is on earlier than I am used to.  By the time The Calm One gets home, we eat dinner and play a round of Yahtzee and get the chickadees to bed it's after 10pm Eastern 9pm and all my shows have already erred aired.  I am forced to watch daytime USA if I want to watch tv at all.  Which consists of reruns of House, NCIS and an occasional Royal Pains or Burn Notice.

You'd think that would make skipping tv altogether an easy thing.  No, no, no, my friend, what makes it easy to skip watching tv is the anticipation of my chickadees' heart-wrenching outcry of "oh, how could you?!" should I switch the channel from Phineas and Ferb to something worth watching.

Besides the whole time change thing, I don't think my fingernails will allow me the satisfaction of typing a whole post. See, it was my silly idea to get acrylic nails right before we left for our move to Texas.  The chickadees were driving me nuts, the house was in disarray . . . I needed some mommy pampering time.

Who?! Me?!

What I really wanted was a one hour massage with the entire nail and pedicure thing, but that wasn't happening. A-hem. So, I settled on dragging my chickadees to the mall while some waif of a nail technician ignored the fact that I have a voice and jabbered on his phone while giving me a really good set of fake nails.  They look like my real nails only, pretty and feminine and delicate.  Actually, they don't look like my real nails at all.  But they look like someone's real nails.

They are so good, in fact that they are still with me, have grown out about a quarter of an inch (ick) and makes it impossible for me to write without numerous typos.

Now that I think about it, this post may have been way more entertaining if I'd left the typos in . . . huh, food for thought.

At any rate, this is what you get.  At least for now.

Counting it all Time Change joy,

1 comment:

  1. Love your post! Thanks for making me laugh! I'm having the same problem sleeping, so I can understand. My excuse, um, don't have one. :)


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