Beauty Rest is so Overrated

I DO FUNNY THINGS WHEN I HAVEN’T SLEPT. A few months ago, my little sister Machelle slept over and wound up crashing on the couch. I threw a blanket over her and didn’t give it a second thought when I went to bed. I closed my door and jumped under the covers and BAM! I was right off into dream land. So much so was the depth of my sleep, that when my bedroom door flew open and I saw a silhouette with big hair standing over me, I sat straight up in bed, clasped my blankets to my chest and horrified, asked, “Who are you?!”

This has now become the joke of the family. We can’t get through a conversation without one of us looking suddenly panicked and saying “who are you?” at least five times. Good thing I’m not above making fun of myself. I’ll happily imitate this if you’d like since there is no way to explain the hilarity of the voice I said it in. Think Belle from Beauty and the Beast, in that high pitched, I’m-such-a-helpless-woman-so-someone-please-save-me voice.

Nightmares are pretty common for me, I’m lucky if I don’t have one. This is by no fault other then my own; I’ve seen almost every horror movie there is to be seen. I’m completely horrified, and fascinated at the same time. I hate when I watch them, but I love it. No I hate it. Gah! I can’t decide. The other day I had a nightmare that my Grams had died. Now that there is a scary dream, I really don’t want to be the one to find her. Talk about gruesome.

She told me the other day that when she died, she has  DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) on her medical information papers, and in her will. I told her I’d just pretend that I didn’t ever hear her say that. . .to which she said, “That’s fine, because if you don’t listen I’ll just come back and haunt your ass”.  Yup, that’s a direct quote from my 80 year old grandmothers’ mouth.

So, fast forward to this week.

I may or may not have been staying up extremely late  each night stalking reading other people’s blogs. I am a blog stalker, I check for new posts on my favorite sites at least twice a day. I love your posts so much I’d rather stay up laughing until one in the morning than get some serious zzz’s.

So Thursday- when I hadn’t had more than five hours of sleep per night I woke up an hour late, and had to scramble to get ready on time. You have no idea how proud I was when I went to walk out the door and I was only five minutes behind my normal schedule. I double checked everything one last time and that’s when I noticed that the clock says 7:05 instead of 8:05. Boy my eyes must be tired if I’m seeing that.

And then it hits me.

I wasn’t an hour late, I was an hour early.