For the record, I’m not staying up late drinking and playing cards. Really. I’m writing. (Photo credit: Vladimir Ivanov, Dreamstime.com) |
I’m burning the midnight oil right now, working every moment I can to finish up revisions so I can get this book into the hands of my beta readers in the next couple of weeks.
This is just to say that I’m tired. And stupid.
So I’m yawning and feeling sleepy at dinner time yesterday–seriously, if I had lay down, I would have been out for the night. Instead of doing that, I had a cup of coffee. I know, I know. But I have work to do. And I don’t usually drink coffee at all because it turns me into a monster by the end of the day. (Tested and proven that theory.) But I figured if I had it in the evening, the coffee monster would rear its ugly head while I was asleep and the kids would get through my coffee side-effects unscathed (which they did). And I did get a lot of work done. Of course I was still wide awake at 2 am.
Strangely enough, when I stay up late, the kids don’t sleep in any longer the next morning. I know, you would think, right? But, no. Still up at the crack of dawn. So I am a wee bit tired today. I do realize that a smart person would have thought “Hmmm. Maybe I should go to bed early tonight,” rather than “Mmmm. Coffee.” But apparently, I wasn’t that kind of person yesterday.
Maybe I will be today.
(Okay, well, maybe not.)
Oh, hey. If you’re feeling in the mood for sending good thoughts out at the end of the week–or really, even before, like now, go ahead and do it now–send some here, please. On Friday, Cael, my 5 year old, is undergoing surgery. It’s minor surgery, but involves general anesthesia which worries me. (And honestly? I’m not sure there really is any such thing as “minor” surgery when it’s your child.) I’m doing my best to not completely stress out about it, and am just hoping I can keep it together long enough to walk him into the OR, tell him I’ll see him when he wakes back up, with a smile on my face while emitting calm assurance, before I completely fall apart. (I’ve been practicing. Sigh. Hopefully I’ll be able to pull it off by Friday. Riley had a similar surgery when he was 2, and I cried as they put the mask over his face in the OR, then in the bathroom for about 5 minutes before splashing my face with water and going out to the waiting room to pretend to be calm while I counted down the minutes.) It’s scary. It’ll be okay, but it’s scary.
I’m not sure if I’ll post at the end of the week, so I will wish you all a great weekend a little early, and see you here next week. In the meantime, be well, hug your kids (a lot), and steer clear of operating rooms.