Mother Night

Good lord, people. At 2:30 am, I was up like a shot, and stayed that way till 5. I don't know if it was the horrendous indigestion (I could feel the outline of my stomach, etched in burning red, all the way up my esophagus; i looked at the back of my throat, and it was like lighting up a Zippo), or just worry about the wedding planning (a certain someone's ex is doing all she humanly can to upset the kids around it), but here I was, staring out at the bay and playing endless games of Scramble on Facebook.

And I didn't even approach a new personal best. I scored like 18 every time.

I suppose that would have been a good time for me to be typing this, rather than now, when I'm almost a half-hour late for a job interview, but -- I really wasn't thinking clearly. A helpful night owl recommended that I dissolve some baking soda in water, and I had no idea -- no earthly idea -- where the baking soda might be. I JUST BOUGHT the baking soda. I'm the ONLY person who would know where it is. Nevertheless, the idea of finding it, and using it to ease my discomfort, was totally, totally beyond me.

I forced myself back into the family bed when the sun threatened to start rising, and my feet were cold, so I was stumbling around looking for those really good socks my babydaddy got me one time at the flea market. "Wuz goinnon overdere?" he mumbled, and I told him I couldn't sleep. "Notmyfault," he murmured. "I'm being verrrrry dulllll."

Thank goodness I was too sleepy to laugh too hard.