I worked thirteen hours today, and spent the last two hours of my shift thinking about the bath I was going to take. I was gonna get home, run the bath, make some tea, grab the New Yorker, and hit it. Then sleep. Nothing else. I was TOO excited.
So I get in my car, switch on my phone, and promptly get talked into going to San Francisco. I mean, come on. Have I NO willpower at all?
Nah.
Besides, friend in crisis. How can I say no? Must counsel. Of course, if said counseling comes with a beer in the back garden and the opportunity for watching pool on a gorgeous warm fall night, it’s just something I have to deal with, no?
Didn’t so much counsel my friend as just listened and asked her to take her time. My little mama has drilled this one piece of advice into my head: You don’t have decide anything right now. And that’s usually the truth, isn’t it? If you HAVE to make a decision, it’s usually not the right time. Once the right time rolls around, you’ve already made the decision in your heart and mind and it’s not hard. It might suck, yeah. But it’s not hard to make.
(I realize, though, that I have NO problem with decisions. I have a gazillion other issues, but that ain’t one of ‘em. I think I’ve internalized Mom’s advice and I Just Don’t Think About It until I have to think about it, and by then it’s a done deal. )
Try it. It’s not so bad.
God, I feel like I have so many things I was thinking about writing and they’re all gone. Piffle. All right. It’s weird, I think, that my spell-check doesn’t highlight the word piffle (or Baryshnikov or Schwarzenegger, for that matter) but flags aargh and bleah.
Non-sequiturs abound. Off to bed it is, then. I’m home before midnight and I’ll still get eight hours of sleep. I agree with Marcia when she commented that she feels like she’s getting screwed when she has to go to bed on time – I want to stay up late and still be able to get enough sleep, screw the mathematics involved. When I was leaving the bar tonight, I kept saying regretfully to people, “I’m SO sorry, but I have to get up early tomorrow. I have to work, you know.” They just stared and nodded. Yeah, dumb-ass. So do we. This whole day-shift working thing has me thrown. It feels so WEIRD to have to be at work in the morning.
Hope your morning, whatever you’re doing, is not so very weird, and that you don’t have to make any decision more difficult than which pair of your favorite socks you’ll pick to wear today. (oh – and alison – yep, Digit’s home safely, thank god. Greta suggested he might very well come home with a grand fortune from the roulette table, enough to send me back to Venice, but he just dragged in minus a collar and some scraps of pride. He’s sound asleep now, snoring and pretending I’m not typing about him….. Poor baby…..)
alison says
I’m glad Digit came home after his wild night. I’m the same as you — I never want to go to bed. I have a bad case of FMS, I think: Fear of Missing Something. And then I HATE dragging my sorry ass out of bed in the morning to go to work. I wish I could get by on four or five hours of sleep, but I’m a mess. Wah! Are we getting old? (she asks on the day before her birthday)
Cari says
No, birthday girl, we are not getting old (the freelancer says after sleeping till 10:30 cause she was up way too late the night before). I have to force myself to get into bed before 2 am. Always. I love sleep…I just love morning sleep best.
Christine says
I’m glad to hear that Digit came home safely! My naughty feline is home now as well. She came slinking back in with a grin on her face yesterday morning. She’s just not telling where she’s been!
Em says
My FMS is Fear of Missing Sleep, not something. Didn’t used to be that way, but I am completely worthless work-wise at night. ‘Cept for knitting, of course.
Reason #1 why Scout is an indoor cat: because I can’t deal with the idea of not knowing where he is or when/if he’s coming home. Yeah, I’m going to make a GREAT parent. Oy. Glad Digit’s OK, but you should work on that roulette game of his.
greta says
The best counseling is usually of the LISTENING variety…and throw in a beer and a garden and some pool, shoot, therapy all around!
What do the morning pages say about
“Sorry I have to go to work” ?
Just curious 😉
Ginny says
You lucky girl… even deciding what to have for dinner sends me into fits. Glad to hear Digit’s in one feline piece. And I promise to have those tat pics to you ASAP. No, really… I promise…
brooke says
but sometimes NOT making a decision means leaving somebody hanging uncomfortably, no? i am a truly horrible decision maker. or, i make decisions, and then don’t really admit to myself i’ve decided, and t sort of dribbles out and then someone says ‘when did you decide this?” and i’m as suprised as them.