I am working on some serious sleep debt this week. I haven't once gone to bed since Friday night before 11 pm. It's getting to the point where I would probably scare people if I didn't put make-up on. While it does have its perks in the month leading up to Halloween, looking like the living dead probably isn't acceptable at the work place unless it is actually Halloween (or you work for Hot Topic). Last night was the latest night, finally shutting off the computer at quarter to 1...only to have to turn it back on to send a forgotten email.
I know, you might think a bedtime of 9:30 or 10pm is pretty early, and something you'd only make your kids do, but considering I wake up at 5:30 am, I think that's just about right. While I can seemingly function on 5 hours of sleep, it doesn't necessarily mean I am completely cognizant of my actions during those waking hours. It's a good thing I'm not doing any calculations today. As I've learned early on, I'm the kind of person that needs a full 7-8 hrs of sleep. If perhaps I've managed to accrue some sleep debt, I also become the crankiest old fart on earth. This week I know I've been grumpy towards everyone, especially my husband, and this morning I want nothing to do with people in general. Unfortunately, that's not the way the world works. Although I may soon have to resort to stamping a big F*** OFF on the front of my shirt in hopes that it would deter the majority of the population away from my scowling face as I listlessly cling to my cooling coffee cup.
I have to ask myself why do I put myself through these times of stress and severe lack of sleep, and the answer back to myself always seems to be along the lines of..."you do not know how to say no to your family". Ah, the endless bombardment of "can you help me?" from my completely computer inept mother is one of the most irksome things that cause me stress. Yesterday, I had to set up a place card template, which she promptly screwed up. And as I was about to leave at 10:30pm, she drops a disk in my lap and asks why the movies won't work on her computer and if it will work with the projector the DJ is providing after telling me he can't use a laptop with the projector. WHAT?! She tried to relay what the DJ had told her over the phone, but as mentioned previously her lack of technological skills causes her to not understand a word of what he had said.
This luncheon party for my lola's 80th birthday is becoming quite the event. I'll never understand why we have to have a program for a birthday party. But, my parents are performers. They don't just throw a party...they HOST it. There are singing acts, and dancing acts, and slideshows, and speeches. I used to get into that sort of thing. My cousins and my sisters and I used to perform also. But that was when we were all still in school...when we had all summer to mess around, choreographing and practicing a dance number. We were requested to do yet another dance performance, but finally we said we could not. We have no time to do so. My mom was disappointed, but I'm sitting there thinking, are you kidding me? normal people have birthday parties that don't involve hiring luau dancers or a mariachi band!
The problem is, ever since they started doing this, they've raised the bar so high and now they feel like they have to meet that bar every time they host a party. When in reality, none of it is really necessary. And there is a difference between a luncheon and a dinner party. But here I go getting involved in the theatrics of the party planning simply because my mother wants to hand make the table numbers and party favors and programs. And even though there were months to plan it, somehow we managed to put off all the work until the last week. To me that says, I don't want to put in this much work to plan a party. So, why do it? I came up with the project to do a scrapbook, and that's my fault for not doing more of the work early on. I add to my own stress apparently. But the scrapbook is finally complete...mostly. I might have 1 more page to do, but I'll just throw it together.
On a completely different tangent, I seem to be the go-to person for random questions in my family. My baby sister calls me and wants to know how to find out how to determine if a highway ramp in Iowa is closed and how to get around it. Hm, well, you could pull out a map and just drive there. If it's closed, use the map to find another exit. My other sister tries to find out how to cook things...like lasagna. It's called Google my dears...when you call and ask me, that's all I do. Google is your friend. What makes me the expert in all things random? Worse yet, why do I continue to keep answering their questions?
sleep deprived.
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