rambling on…and on and on and on

The insomnia is back. In fact, I’m now waking up in full panic mode. Anxious about things I can’t even sort out. Everything mundane, some things not so mundane. It is, nonetheless, aggravating to say the least.

Here I sit at 2:03am Alaska Standard Time and I’m wide effing awake. But completely bleary-eyed with exhaustion. I just don’t get it.

This sort of thing was “totally awesome” when I was in high school and had a couple of girlfriends to stay up with. Or had a boyfriend I could stay on the phone all night with. (Yes I was one of those type of girls.) Do you know I used to date a guy that I would skip school with just so he and I could talk on the phone all day? (Um sorry mom, guess that secret’s out) He lived approximately 30 miles away, we were very young and therefore couldn’t exactly see each other whenever we wanted. (Okay so it was mostly due to my strict family rules too) But alas, he moved onto bigger and better things and I moved on to psychotic boyfriends 101. But I digress, once again.

Yes, the transition from “my twenties” to “my thirties” has changed me in drastic ways. Even when Howard and I got married, we were night owls. Cocktails every night followed by runs to the coffee shop. And sometimes with groups of people. 3:00am picnics in our tiny living room floor. Of course, we both had the luck of working mindless second shift jobs which allowed for such a lifestyle. Then came finishing college, getting real jobs and so on…

Now it’s eight hours of sleep or Chris is up typing incoherant rants on her mediocre weblog. No, she isn’t up having deep conversations with her husband over a steaming Hazelnut Cappucino, or over cheap wine. She isn’t up with Heather or Julie or Jen or Carla, putting her hair in sponge rollers and making crank calls, cutting up over secret sayings and goofy things only she and another person would understand, sweating her ass off while tearing up the dance floor, or laughing at her roommate’s Benny Hill impersonations.

No. She’s sitting here, writing about how sad and mundane her life has become. How old she is getting and most of all, how her insanity is rearing its head once again. And today is Thanksgiving. The ungrateful bitch should be shot. And is, in fact, taking applications.

Happy Thanksgiving and up yours Mr. Sandman.

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