My epitaph: She Was Fucking Tired.

Can you die from lack of sleep?  Because I think that's exactly what's going to happen today.  My insomnia is back (that's what happens when you run out of the good pills and your doctor recommends mela-fucking-tonin instead of a refill "just to see how it works") with a vengeance.  Okay, so I admit, I haven't exactly tried the melatonin yet, so I shouldn't rag on it.  Why haven't I tried it?  Well, I just got some yesterday (was kind of hoping the exercise would kick the not being able to fall asleep to the curb, but not so much), and when I was thinking about taking it, I remembered that we were to have severe weather late in the night.  Last thing I need is to be sleeping so soundly I don't hear Jim Cantone call me to tell me I'm about to be transported to Oz via tornado.  Turns out the phone did ring several times in the night due to various warnings and shit, but after watching the news, the hairy shit was southeast enough of us we'd thankfully be  missed.  (Keeping the families of the two who died in Alabama storms last night in our prayers.)

So bad weather over at about 0220 this morning, I crawl back in bed, get my covers back from the Hubs, and get into "my spot", and Captain Awesome lets out a blood-curdling scream.  Like "MOM I'M BEING ATTACKED BY MUTANT SCORPIONS" scream.  Turns out when you refuse to eat your dinner, you get a little hungry in the middle of the night. (NO WAY.) So a sippy cup of milk later, some snuggles, and it's back to bed for me, to realize in about 6 minutes THE FUCKING ALARM CLOCK is going to go off for Hubs to get to work at zero dark thirty.  Alarm goes off, he goes to work, cries ensue from Quinn's room, cries stop (molars are fucking KILLING me, y'all)... long story long, I fell asleep about 430.  To be up at 615 with a mastiff nose snuffling my face.

Such was my night.  All thoughts of being productive have gone out the window.  Bonus to all this malarkey is I finally got the hall closet cleaned out since it is our tornado shelter... but now I have to put all that shit back.  Balls.

I'd better take advantage of Quinn's naptime today and snooze myself because tonight?  I get to talk to The Preteen about periods and how babies are made.  I know you're insanely jealous.  Stay tuned, because the recap of tonight is sure to be full of embarrassing hilarity (read: I'm winging this shit.).