So awake. So very awake. Looking around my dark room, bored. Never be bored at 11:35 pm. Be ASLEEP.
I think it’s the Rocky Road ice cream that I ate at 9pm that is causing me trouble. My sister thinks it’s wrong to have chunks of nuts in ice cream. It’s like, an interruption. Tell me about it.
I’m not normally awake now. At least not now that we have passed the newborn stage with our baby and entered into the big baby stage (what do you call the “bigger than a newborn, not yet a toddler” person?)
I looked at the clock at 11:22 and decided that if at 11:32 I was still awake, I would get up and do something. The following is a loose outline of my thoughts during that time.:
I like The Man’s new office. He needs to take a coffeemaker there. To make his own coffee. If I had a job and an office, I would be sure to take a coffeemaker into the office with me to make my own coffee in the mornings. What a great idea that is! But can you do that? It seems like maybe you can’t, like its a fire hazard. What? You’re so stupid, if you can have a coffeemaker in the breakroom, then you can have one in your own office. I worked in an office once. Nobody brought their own coffeemaker. Why not? I would! But wait, I didn’t. But I would now. And leave creamer in the fridge. Maybe I would just make coffee in the breakroom. A full pot? Everyone could just drink it. A half pot? What if I had to pee and came back and it was gone? I could just make a lot every morning and wait until it brews and take the first cup, who cares if others drink it? But then, I would become the coffeemaker. Not the coffeemaker. The Coffee Maker. The one who makes the coffee. How do you spell “coffeemaker”? Maybe I should call it a “coffeepot”. What time is it?
Only 11:29. I’m getting up anyway.