I can't figure out why I'm not exhausted right now. I was up early, I worked all day, I zipped over and taught a lesson to a new student, I went to a salon/forum kind of thing, and now here I am. Maybe I'm over-stimulated. Plus yesterday I was running all day on a handful of sleep, thanks to this:
I think this is the last bachelorette party for awhile, but you never know when we might just smear dessert on our faces for the hell of it.
It was a good night. There was some (sadly half-assed) salsa dancing. There were shenanigans. About halfway through the night I remembered that I had an inflatable police doll in my trunk. You would be right to ask why. It's a souvenir from my 30th birthday party--which, mind you, was over three years ago--where my friend Jerry B did a dance in a leotard with said doll and gave me his dignity as a birthday present. Anyway, I inflated the plastic man and he came with us to the diner, which was our last stop of the evening. I didn't share any of my caramel roll and/or French fries with him, but he got plenty of attention.
I had a nightmare almost immediately after I got home, which I blame partly on the ridiculously extensive midnight snack. The nightmare was pretty benign in terms of content--a sort of bizarre poltergeisty thing where the house wouldn't let me and Madness in (yes it's true, you were in my dream)--the door was pushing back at us and there was a palpable unease in the air, even though it was sunny. I woke up hot and huddled, my heart thudding. I had to get up for my church gig a few hours later.
Sweet dreams everyone.