Tomorrow is my birthday. I share this day with Gilda Radner (RIP Emily Latella) Todd Camp, King Henry the Eighth, and Mel Brooks.
I’m feeling a bit introspective and more than I little ooged out. (The introspective is because of the birthday, the oog is because I just stepped on a cockroach with my bare foot. EEEEEWWWW)
This time of year is usually a big ball of confusion for me because I am used to having down time. Now that I don’t teach regularly, my schedule is less rigid and with Sunday being the longest day of my work week, I’m always a little off. (Yes, that’s the reason.) And this week Actor Boy was here. I insisted he take the good bed. After spending a week camping with his family, he didn’t put up much of a fight. So I slept on one of the less comfy beds. And then the day before he left I was awake 22 hours. It wasn’t difficult to stay awake, I am an insomniac, but it was difficult to stay focused. I slept all day yesterday only waking to slug from one room to the next and feed myself. I’m still disoriented.
What I’m thinking now is “Where did I want to be by this time in my life?” The answer to that is “I don’t know.” I should probably know the answer to that.
Where am I now? Is it closer to find than the what? It’s all very confusing, especially since my ambien just kicked in.
Actor Boy and Writer Chick are undertaking a grand adventure tomorrow. I need to rest up.