A Well Manicured Lawn

I really wanted to blog tonight, but realized I don't have much to say. But then again, when did that ever stop me before?

After two really good nights' sleep, insomnia struck again last night. Well, that's a lie, actually. It didn't strike so much as I induced it.

I had to get up yesterday at the crack of dawn for a TheCompanyIWorkFor meeting. There's just something unnatural about getting up when it's still dark outside. It's wrong. Therefore, to ensure my arrival in A'don without falling asleep at the wheel, I drank a jumbo cup of coffee. On an empty stomach. Never a good idea for me.

I was so fuckin' wired the entire day it was almost embarrassing. I was talking like a meth addict. I was even telling my friend a story about a client we have - and the story had a point, there was a reason for it - but I went into such a description of why this was my favorite client that I completely forgot why I was telling the story. A brain fart of such huge proportions it scared me for a minute. I think my friend knew I "wasn't myself," but was too nice to say anything.

Then it was the 2 hours back to B'field, pick up a horn, and the hour and a half to B'burg for band. I almost didn't go because it was cold and rainy and I was tired, but I'm glad I did. We sightread a bunch of stuff in the folder, I played moderately well, and I like hanging out with those band folks. They make me happy.

Afterwards it was to Mr M's for, yes, two more cups of coffee. OK. So how dumb am I?

Anyhoo, after a couple hours sleep, finally, it was time for work today. I'd been asleep so little I couldn't even get my contact lenses in, and had to spend the day in glasses.

So on my afternoon off instead of doing all the things I had planned, I went to the grocery then had a four hour sleep in the Comfy Chair. It's OK, though. I needed it.

I've realized I haven't told you my mowing story. As you all know, I lost my dear, brave, valiant, stalwart Mowing Boy to the Navy. I'd planned on letting the nephew be the new mower, he'd expressed interest, but in my heart I know that's not a good appointment because he's into so much else, and knows I'd never say anything to him if he was lax in his duties. So I have someone else now instead.

It is - Mowing Dad.

The other week at work I got a phone call from Mowing Boy's dad, who's also a client. As you know, he sometimes came along with Mowing Boy to edge or weed-whack. He said that he was thinking about keeping some of Mowing Boy's yards if people were interested, and was I. So I went ahead and said, sure. I mean, sure, he's no Mowing Boy, but he's related, right?

So after I finally woke up enough today to get my wits about me and start moving, I went to the kitchen sink to wash up my coffee pot. It was just starting to get dark. And I looked out my window and noticed that my very shaggy yard was now all mowed and trimmed and neat. Mowing Dad was here!

So I went to the door, but didn't see his truck. I did, however, notice that the front yard was also done. That meant Mowing Dad had already finished the job and left.

Now, my car was in the driveway all afternoon, and I had both my front and dennette doors open. I can only imagine that he came to the door for payment when he was through and never woke me up. I find this extremely hard to imagine if he rang the bell, it's very loud. And if he came to the front door, then I'm sure he saw me there asleep.

I don't know. Maybe he saw me there asleep, and didn't even try. Or maybe my sleep was so deep he did try, to no avail.

Embarrassing, sure. But at least I didn't meet him at the door in a towel, like I did his Boy.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Well, tonight I got the new shoe rack up. The old shoe rack, which I had to painstakingly put together, broke about a week after I had it, and all my shoes kept falling off it. This one was a no-assembly bag-type thing, and holds as many shoes. Hopefully it'll last a little longer.
* That Gael Garcia Bernal's a looker, isn't he?