Last night, I went to bed early with My Sailor. While he passed out around 8:30-9pm, I was up reading. I've been trudging my way through The Life Of Pi by Yann Martel since April. I haven't been faithful about reading it every night. I also haven't seen the movie yet, but I kept hearing this book was one of those 'important' peices of literature. To give it its due, I've been trying to work my way through it. Honestly, it took over 100 pages just to get to a place where I actually could see the story being more than a 'coming of age' tale. Usually, 'coming of age' tales are pretty boring (just my personal opinion). Anyway, the book was finally picking up, so before I knew it, I was flying from page 80 to page 120! (Disclaimer: I'm a slow leisure reader. I prefer not to re-read and, being a budding writer myelf, I tend to anlayze characters, style, and subtext, complete with note taking in the margins and such. Borrowing a book from me is an interesting proposition.) The clock said past 11pm by the time I closed the cover, reluctantly leaving my hero adrift in a lifeboat on the Indian Ocean with a hynea, a tiger, and a dead zebra for company.
A few hours later, My Sailor got up to go to work. That's not the unusual part. The unusual part was that the beasties were have none of sleeping through his exit. Though it was somewhere between 2 and 4 am, the sky was already light and the dogs thought I should be up as well. Oy...
When a Odin sticks his face on the bed, sniffing and snorting at whomever is still in bed, and Clydas starts his incessant whining and pawing at the bed, it's an impossible double team. When that happens, know I'm losing the battle for sleep.
I got up, petted them good morning (afterall, God made dogs, like childeren, too cute to kill when they are driving you batty).
|See what I mean?|
I fed them, hoping that full bellies would calm them into a stupor. Nope. It just started the morning wrestling match earlier than usual. It's really hard to sleep through dogs slamming themselves into the walls.
I tossed and turned and got some broken sleep after that. Needing gym clothes, I made sure they were clean and got dressed to leave.
The workout was it's usual form of awesomeness. Climbing one wrung further on the bridge to badassary. So no strangeness there. I'm learning different combinations of work outs I can do on my own and that's exciting, empowering and, well, (at the risk of repeating myself) all sorts of awesome.
I came home to a box on my front porch and the mail man just driving away. I was actually expecting large boxes, but instead, I got 1. One broken box/cooler, saturated with milk. Human milk to be exact. No, not from me, nor have I gone so coo-coo that I ordered it for me. It's actually for my nephew, as My Sailor's Sister and her family are relocating to Seattle area. I spent the next 30 minutes or so sifting through the packets, figuring out what was salvagable and what was possibly contaminated, and putting the still-frozen packets into a deep freezer for later pick up.
It's not every day you have a puddle of breast milk on your porch.
See what I mean by strange?
The dogs have continued to be a little bonkers today. Odin has decided he can sneak his face into the kitchen sink while I'm not in the house - so no one is leaving dishes out anymore.
Odin also decided that the massage oil he's never been interested before looked tasty, because he decided to destroy a bottle left out on the coffee table.
I guess they are training me to lead a more orderly household - not that it's usually out of control anyway. I can only stand so much clutter. (Damn! I was really working on NOT improving my domestic goddess skills too.).
But the truth is, I'm one person towing a pretty heavy rope over here solo. I do a pretty darn good job of it 99% of the time. It's the strange days that have me scratching my head (and tend to point out where I need to improve).
Thankfully, the strangeness seems to have subsided as evening has set in. As I launch into a late night filled with working and writing (deadlines! Ahh!!!), I'm hopeful that Clydas' stomach will be on the mend tomorrow.
I'm really looking forward to Disneyland in August, followed by a Catalina day or two girl's trip with Mom.
Just gotta sift through the strangeness to get there...