It's Saturday

You're right, no it isn't. And, unfortunately, I realized that after laying there for about 30 minutes after I woke up this morning.

I woke up after dreaming that I was on vacation in Florida and somehow I ended up in a wheelchair and my husband was drinking with his friend and refused to push me around the resort. So I spent the whole dream trying to navigate the fucking resort and thinking how it was not wheelchair friendly at all. I had to keep getting out of the chair and pushing it up over curbs, etc.

Yeah, I know.

What woke me were the distant sound of sirens and a very tiny howl coming from the bottom of my bed. The howl was coming from the bed, not the sirens. And then Crazyman was at it, smothering me by laying his entire body over my face. It's really the sort of love you have to get used to. I could hear his muffled giggles while my one working nostril fought for air with his belly button.

And for the record? Day Five is non-existent because after a day of dealing with chemically unbalanced name callers and sitter interviews, I cracked open that Ultra and it went down so easy I had two more before falling into bed, exhausted, frazzled and apparently in imagination overdrive.

So now, I'm off to finish my Sarah Palin bingo cards for tonight's debate. Because if there was ever anything that I viewed as a joke, it's Sarah Palin in a debate. I hope I didn't offend all of Alaska with that, but really, I sorta do.