I have not been able to sleep properly in about two weeks, as my activity online probably bears out. Insomnia's been my curse since I was little--I mean, like, four--and it's back. I haven't beat this round of it with exhausting myself online or reading myself to sleep or decaf vanilla chai or Tylenol PM or a quick roll in the hay before bedtime. L'Ailee's even stopped kicking in her sleep--an occasional bad habit of hers--and it's not helping.
So this morning, I put cereal in the fridge and soy milk on top of it (instead of vice versa). L'Ailee giggles as she takes care of it. "You need more sleep," she says.
"That's easy for you to say," I snarl. She's been getting plenty.
She goes on. "I hope you aren't off like this all day."
That's when I get pissy. "Excuse the hell out of me?" She actually jumps back. "That's the kind of stupid thing someone who gets enough goddamned sleep might say!" And...we're off. For several minutes, we argue back and forth.
Finally, she vowed to hit me upside the head with my cast iron pan if I can't sleep any other way tonight, and I said, "Promise? I've tried everything else,", and we laughed and managed to say our ritualistic "I love you" to each other before parting.
So I'm here at work, waiting for closing time, counterintuitively avoiding most caffeine (except for green and white tea) in an effort to have none working in my system tonight. And so of course, we got hyper-busy this afternoon! We had a couple of interviews this morning. One was out in the lobby on her cell phone early this morning. She'd turned in a resume (gotten the interview from that), but not an application. So I was supposed to give her the application to fill out while she waited. I tried to get her attention, and failed. Finally I tapped her shoulder and whispered, "You need to fill out this application, please."
The woman actually told the person on the other end to hold on, and then turned to me, getting all shirty, and exclaimed, "Can't you see I'm talking on the phone?" Say WHAT? I mean, unless the conversation includes words like "Mom", "hospital," and "transplant," in which case we'd be very happy to reschedule, how the hell is her cell phone call more important than taking care of business for a job interview?
Normally I would just blow this kind of thing off and tell BossLady about it. But today I replied, "Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt your important conversation with something so trivial as an application for your job interview. In fact, I'm pleased that you could fit us into your busy schedule today." I'm sure I heard myself being called a bitch, but I didn't care.And, of course, I told BossLady, who had me do deep breathing exercises before conceding that I sort of had a point, even though we needed to make that point in a more "appropriate" fashion, such as by not giving her the job.
If I don't sleep good tonight, I'm begging L'Ailee for the cast-iron pan. Or my doctor for a few days' worth of Ambien. Or something.