I Have Had Better Days

 Have you ever wondered why you get up every day and carry on? Or is that just me? I perform the same chores daily that are required to run a household. Some days are easier than others, but most of the time I feel like I am in a battle to succeed and failing. 

The only highlight of the day is bedtime. I go through the motions while in my mind I am counting down to that magical hour when I can slip between the sheets that I so carefully smoothed out when I made the bed. I always have high hopes of drifting off to a peaceful sleep uninterrupted by outside forces.

Outside forces being just that, outside of myself. That would be a loud TV, a dog peeing in my bed, or one dragging the floor vent around the house trying to escape. A husband moving his legs restlessly like he is in a swimming match and talking to who knows what. He says he never dreams, but it is more likely he just doesn't remember. After all, he can't remember where anything is in this house.

Once awakened, I can no longer sleep. Not for lack of trying. I will lay there, still and quiet, stroking Eddie's fur and doing breathing exercises. If that doesn't work, which is most of the time; I remove myself from the bed, so I won't disturb anyone.

Eddie used to accompany me to my exile, but lately he just sleeps on, usually on the pillow I vacate. Little Bo will jump to the floor after a time to investigate my location. He will jump upon the sofa with me and just sit quietly next to me, no doubt hoping I will decide I need food. I share. The sleepy time tea doesn't help much, just makes me pee a lot.

I even decided to dose the tea with alcohol, in hopes that I will get sleepy. Just last night, I grabbed the quart of vodka to dose the tea. Why do I have a quart of vodka? It has Madagascar vanilla beans fermenting in it to make vanilla extract, she says, like that is a reasonable explanation.

Usually around 4am, I will stumble off to bed and actually get a bit of sleep. Until 7:30 when the dogs want to go out. I dutifully get up and make my way outside with them. Then fully awake I decide to make coffee. I drink the coffee and sometimes it will temporarily energize me, and I can start my day.

Depending on how many sleepless nights I have accumulated, I am just as likely to fall asleep sitting on the sofa. In that case I will try the bed again and fall asleep again. Until Toni Louise decides to wake the world by barking. She will get as close to me as she can and bark. I know I am not the only one to hear this, since the man in bed next to me will tell her to shut up.

This annoys me. Knowing I can't get back to sleep in my annoyed state, I stubbornly lay still and see if he will get up and tend to her needs. She continues to bark and I continue to wait. It is, after all 11:30 by now. I finally give up and get up in a foul mood.

No longer even trying to be quiet, in fact, trying to be loud to show how annoyed I am; I begin my chores. He finally gets up, all chipper and considerate. I am having none of that. Where was that consideration when I needed to sleep? I wait patiently for him to go about the day and leave for his breakfast so I can clean the living area.

He doesn't leave today. Instead, he decides martyrdom is the word of the day. He sits in the recliner forlorn, because he has no idea why I am so crabby. I take my sleep deprived bitchy self outside to try to find my happy place. I drag the rake out and begin raking up all the leaves and debris from yesterday's wind. Then I tackle my heap of stuff behind the vegetable garden that is not to be disturbed. It is filled with many wonderful limbs and branches. I clip down all the long branches and then gather all the pine branches and grab a bucket to begin the tedious process of pulling the needles off to use for mulch.

I don't know why this bothers him, I don't ask him to participate. I am doing just that when he decides to abandon his phone and see what I am doing. "What are you doing?" God help me, I want to punch him in the face! He has seen me do this a million times and every single time will ask what I am doing. I just look at him. He then asked what happened to my eye. Nothing that I know of, but he says I have a black eye, so I pick up the hem of my t-shirt to wipe it off. Nothing there and he then tells me I have a bruised eye. Karma? For wanting to punch his face?

He gives up and returns to his recliner and phone. When the sun starts to hit my location, I go inside to examine this black eye. Not black, but I have dark circles under both eyes. Gee, I wonder why.

If only I could calmly say all this to him ...... I have tried, but he gets defensive and that makes me mad and then I spew things out of my mouth that are not nice and get so mad that I will cry. His response will be that he doesn't read my mind and if I need help, all I need do is ask. This will only escalate my already bitchy self into giving examples of just why this requesting of help does NOT work and things will get uglier. 

I decided to entertain you all with it instead. I answer his questions, but do not engage in conversation. He just asked if I would like to go get something to eat. I declined the offer, saying I have no appetite. That is true. I am sitting here drenched in my own sweat with my black eye and he wants to take me out to eat? I know he is trying to put the morning behind us, but I am so tired ...... Not to mention stubborn.

Even the turtle is subdued, along with the canine trio. The feline community avoided me outside, when they will usually follow me wherever I go. I must have an aura emitting my mood to all the creatures!