Little SleepSeptember 15, 2004
Man, am I tired. But for good reason: I went to bed about nine this morning, and then got up at 11:30 because the Whoreshoes were playing on KUSF and I wanted to boot up the computer and listen to the show in bed. Because I can. Because I have wireless. (I love that. Have I mentioned that?) I thought to my sleep-addled self that I could even listen to it in the backyard (if the backyard happened to be in my bedroom, that is, ‘cause I wasn’t moving). It was a good show. I’m glad I woke up.
And then I noticed my phone light was flashing—that signal that someone had left me a message while I was sleeping with the ringer off. It was my realtor. Number 111 liked my offer the best and were countering it for more money! Really, it’s a wonderful thing to hear, but it’s a hard thing to hear after two plus hours of sleep, because there’s that painful moment of realization: I’m going to really have to wake up now. I called her back, and we had to “crunch numbers” (I really hate that phrase), and according to my realtor, the amount they were asking will still be affordable on a month-to-month basis. Very important, that last.
So I had to get up, get dressed, brush my teeth and put on lipstick (because even in the Big One I’ll have to stop to put on lipstick), and drive up to Orinda to sign Very Important Things. Things so very important that the ridiculously high nature of the sums discussed made my brain sizzle and spark, causing small shorts. I think I owe a lot of money now? Huh-uh.
Then, of course, I came home and got back in bed with all intentions to sleep again, and with all knowledge that I was going to be very very very bad at doing so. I was. It felt like a meditation exercise where you attempt to gently clear your mind and the one thing you don’t want to think about keeps sneaking into your line of sight. I refuse to get (very) excited about this property. One: It might not appraise at the amount they want. Two: I might not get full financing. Those are very real blocks. I refuse to decorate in my mind, or plan packing and moving, or think about where the cat litter box would go. So I lay there, not thinking. And then poof! I’d think, I wonder where the desk would look best? And whammo! Wide awake again, saying to myself, No Thinking About It. It’s so very far from a done deal that it’s actually an undone deal. That’s nothing upon which to prop thoughts of where to store extra toilet paper.
So. Anyway. While I’m super excited this is where I am, I almost wish I had just woken up this morning, listened to some old-time music on the new-time radio, and gone back to sleep. I would be more rested. Lots to think about. Lots, lots, lots. Not thinking. Much.