Why is the snooze button on my alarm clock so massive that it takes up 50% of the top of it? Is that some cruel plot designed to decrease productivity? Worse yet, the tiny button that shuts OFF the alarm is situated a whole few centimeters away from it (gasp!) AND on the far end of the clock from my bed. Do you know what an astronomical effort it is to reach across those extra centimeters (while in a sleepy, drunken-like haze, mind you) and turn the alarm off instead of just hitting the handy, convenient snooze button? Thus, is it any surprise that I sometimes wind up "snoozing" for about two hours in a row? Then, the more times I'm jolted "awake" by it, the more tired and sleep-deprived I feel, so it just renders me more and more likely to press snooze again. Vicious cycle, I tell ya.
Speaking of alarm clock woes, yesterday was Saturday (duh). I was really looking forward to sleeping in, but had forgotten to turn off my alarm on Friday night. Then, it woke me up at 7:00 a.m. yesterday. Luckily, I didn't have those frantic moments of "Oh, no, I'd better get ready for work!", followed by showering, getting dressed, almost scrambling out to the car, and then realizing in supreme relief, "Oh, yeah. . . it's Saturday! Yay!" Still, I couldn't fall back asleep and wound up rolling out of bed at an insanely early hour for a Saturday, anyhow. Drat.
I did my taxes Friday night, then dreamed vividly last night about realizing on April 23 that I hadn't done my taxes yet and was possibly going to jail. I tried racing home to do them eight days late, but kept encountering obstacles of all sorts along the way. It reminded me of the part in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" where he was trying to get home before everybody else. What's more, a lot of people I saw had '80s hairstyles (coincidence?). Still trying to recover from the horrors of that. I truly don't know what was more horrible, the '80s hairstyles or the prospect of being imprisoned for not doing my taxes on time.
Um. . . what else? Well, the boyfriend and I survived our first non-grocery shopping trip together a week ago (his idea, I swear), and he assured me I wasn't too impossible to get along with (though he may have said that out of a sense of obligation). This means we have now survived holidays with each other's families, my being sick and cranky for a few days, and a Saturday of shopping together, so I'd say that bodes rather well for the future. I bought shoes (my first pair in two years, so don't groan!), a purse (well. . . feel free to groan here, since I'm a little too addicted to purses), an office chair (that I have an INFURIATING STORY about! -- grrr!), and numerous silly items, such as a 1950s-style Coca-Cola calendar that I buy every year, even though I don't drink Coca-Cola. By next month, I'm hoping to have a new hair color and some honest-to-goodness digital photos on my computer again. Photos are fun. Even if they sit there collecting dust for years and nobody ever looks at them. Yeah!
Here's how I know it's winter (and almost time for the road trip, incidentally): 1) My socks are always damp and freezing from slushy, icky snow, so I have to carry about four extra pairs of socks everywhere; 2) My lips are always painfully dry and cracked, begging for chapstick; 3) I feel like even more of a homebody than usual, as if I really needed that. The good news is that I've lost a few holiday pounds in the last couple of weeks. At this rate, I should be back to my pre-November weight by March. (Yeah, I wish I were exaggerating!)
Last but not least, my birthday is coming up next week, AND on a Friday, which is nothing short of awesome. So. . . anyone want to do anything? Go ahead, speak now or forever hold your peace.
