Women need sleep

My Lilyfus, who sleeps in a cradle next to my side of the bed, did it again. Woke up all cute and perky way too early this morning. She was actually cooing and dare I say frolicking? Yes, it is possible to frolick in a cradle. After fumbling around with my outstretched arm trying to locate her Godforsaken binky, and failing miserably, I {groan} lifted myself up on my elbow for a better look and accidentally locked eyes with her. That, of course, means that the ball game is over. She's got me now. She knows I'm awake and there and is convinced that I'm trying to engage her in a game of peek-a-boo. So I did what any good Mother would do. I scooped her into bed next to me and plopped a boob into her mouth to quiet her so she didn't wake up The Bitter Half. Her little feet were cold. How did her feet get cold? She has a lovely little pink baby afghan (with lots of holes) wrapped around them. Hmm. I put them on my belly to warm them and rubbed her little toesies. Yeow! She fed just long enough to preclude the possibility of me falling back to sleep, then passed out. I lovingly placed her back into her cradle and stared at her for about five minutes, then got up.

I figured since I'm up I might as well cook some eggs for The Bitter Half. Men like nothing more than to be an afterthought. So I put a pan on the oven, cut up some onions, and turned on the burner. Then I realized I should probably get the eggs out. It kind of went on from there. I started lighting candles in the kitchen and living room. I don't know why. It just seemed cozy.

I checked email and Facebook and Twitter and MySpace and thought about writing a blog post, then decided that I was way too brain dead to attempt it. I did that once, you know. Wrote a blog post when I thought I was sleeping but I was really not awake but was typing anyway like with my hands in the air, and then when I woke up the next day I saw I'd been rambling publicly about Mari Smith and Robert Scoble and she'd actually been here to post and I hadn't a clue what to say to her I was so excited. Kind of reminded me of my drinking days. Ahh, my drinking days.

I had one Diet Coke left. I need two to get going. I should probably switch to coffee, but it just seems so complicated. I can't drink it straight. I need some of that fancy vanilla creamer stuff. But then I worry about that adding too much fat. And I don't know if it's better to buy the fat-free version because I keep reading about how fat-free stuff has so much sugar added. And I'm wondering about sugar and fat and thinking I just know the creamer will be expired when I need it, so why set yourself up for that kind of disappointment. I mean, that's practially begging for it don't you think. Ooh doggie I'm tired. Why does it smell like maple black cherry in here? Oh yes, the candles.

Ohhh myyy Gooooddd, it's 8am. EIGHT AY EM! Joe will probably be awake - should have been awake much earlier than this. I usually get him up as I'm getting out of bed, but since I was awake earlier I thought I'd let him sleep in for a bit while I cooked up an onion.

Yawn.

I need a picture for this post. Do I attempt it? Photobucket Photobucket. Photobucket rhymes with OOPS. I wonder if I have anything suitable. I don't want to have to go and find a snoozy simley or something so expected and pedestrian because what will people think of me if I go and do something like that. That's just. Oh wait! Hmm... maybe I'll post Tyler Durden again, people seem to like him. I mean what's not to like, he's kind of an everyman boy next door type of guy. But no, wait. What about my mego Klingon, the one that was unpunched but got punched during a move oh drat that made me so sad. Or maybe this freaked out cow. Freaked out cow always cracks me up, he's like "errr?" lol. Oh boy.

Sigh.

Better get some sleep. I need to post to my blog today. Oh yeah.