Unfortunately, it was an exciting night

Ugh. Work and school are kicking my ass right now. They're both going extremely well...it's just all very time-consuming.

I've had some trouble sleeping the past week or two, which is nothing new to me, having battled insomnia on and off since college. Normally, while most people are sleeping, I'm laying there thinking things like this:

"What's on my things-to-do list for tomorrow...I need to make sure the new Spa Rewards program is set up, and write the instructional memo for the spa coordinators, and same with the new on-line booking program, and did EJ ever respond to my list of things that needs to happen for the new site to go live July 1? I don't think so. I should call him. I have all travel plans for my software trainers to come in set, but need to create the schedule for pick-ups/drop-offs, meals, etc. It'll be much the same as last time, but I'm not taking them to Villa Farotta because we just had that meal with the consultant there Sunday night and I wasn't impressed. I hope that asshole consultant isn't in tomorrow...if I see him one more time I think I might beat him silly. I wonder if I'd have enough time to run errands over lunch tomorrow. I still have gifts to buy. Let's see: Steve's birthday, Shawn's birthday, Mom and Dad's anniversary, Father's Day times three...did we get Father's Day squared away with the dads? Maybe Zoe and I can run out when M is cutting the grass tomorrow night. I need to get her in the water more or those swim lessons will be for naught. Mental note: check on-line for open swim times at The Lodge tomorrow. Crap, that'll shoot my lunch break as far as studying goes. I think the homework went remarkably well tonight. How again do I calculate the future value of an ordinary annuity?"

Meanwhile M is sawing logs next to me, blissfully unaware of the running monologue in my head about the gajillion things I needed to get done yesterday.

So that's what normally keeps me awake. But I've determined this week that it's not just my over-active brain. M is doing his share.

For instance, two nights ago, just as I was falling asleep, he bolted upright in bed with that sharp intake of air that you have when you're suprised and scared at once. This, of course, makes me bolt up, "What? What's wrong? You okay?" He told me that there was a large dumptruck wheel coming right towards us, with, you know, a dumptruck hanging off the end of it. Okaaaaay.

I'd say he went right back to sleep after that, but since he never really woke up (and didn't remember any of it the next morning) that would be inaccurate. Meanwhile, I laid there, heart pounding, thinking, "That doesn't make any sense. How is the dumptruck hanging off the end of its wheel?" Ridiculous, I know. I'd be willing to pay money to just turn off my brain for a bit sometimes.

Last night I decided to hedge my bets, and took an over the counter sleep aid before retiring for the night. Ahhh, bliss.

Until M rolled over and inadvertently slammed his giant, 2-ton hand down right on my boob. Oh. My. God. Guys, that's the female version of taking one in the family jewels. I wound up out of bed, writhing around on the floor while M sleepily said, "Wuh? Wuh's goin' on? Why're you down there? Come back to bed."

I climbed back to bed and, after the pain finally ebbed away, fell back asleep. Some time later, I don't know when, M woke me up to tell me we lost power. You know, in case I wanted to don my electrician's belt and go out to restore it.

At this point, I started getting grumpy.

After awhile, he asked where some blankets were so he could toss them over the screeching battery back-up on the sump pump downstairs, which whines horribly just to let us know that despite the absence of Ameren-supplied power, it's working away for us.

Now, when M asks where something is (actually, when any husband asks where something is), the wife just goes and gets it. It's not worth having this conversation:

"Where is X?"
"It's in the linen closet, left side, second shelf down, halfway back on the right right behind the toilet paper."
...
"I can't find it."

Despite the most detailed directions possible, I'll end up having to go get it anyway, so I might as well go as soon as he asks where something is.

We got up, I grabbed the flashlight, and we padded downstairs. After retrieving the blankets we headed into the storage area and the screeching pump. It is impossible to think when that thing is wailing away. M, of course, decides this is an opportune time to inspect the pump and generally just get to know it. I, of course, snarl, "Put the damn blankets on and come on!"

We douse the screaming alarm and head back upstairs. I offer to set the alarm on my watch since we no longer have functioning alarm clocks. He offers to go get his cell phone and set the alarm on that. Fine. He comes back minutes later, "Um, I left both cell phones in Zoe's room last night, when we were putting her down."

^&$@#. Why the &%$@ did you take my cell phone in there? I left it on the counter for a reason. Great, I say, I guess we'll just get up when one of them gets an e-mail and wakes up Zoe.

I set the watch alarm and try to go back to sleep. Within minutes I can hear one of the phones vibrating in her room. Crikey. Someone's calling or e-mailing us before 6 a.m. Then I hear the "PING!" that happens when a voice message is left. I cringe and wait for Zoe to start, "Mooooooommy! Moooooooommy!" Thankfully, she slept through it. Or only woke up momentarily, as evidenced by our getting her up later and her telling us that the phone rang. I shot death glares at M when she said that. He looked guilty and slinked out of the room, carrying the offending cell phones with him.

So, my pharmaceutical-aided attempt at getting a decent night's sleep was foiled once again by the husband. And people wonder why I don't mind his travel schedule.

Power came back on as I was stepping into the shower shortly before 6.

And so starts another day.