Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Dogs Totally Rule

This latest trip has been kicking my ass. I've never had anywhere near this kind of trouble adjusting my clock. I live on a street with 50' wide lots, so my neighbors pretty much know my business. They have recently come to know me as the psycho who gets up at 2:00 am to cook, clean, pay bills and do the laundry. With great intensity and fervor, I might add. By the time I get to work, I've already put in over half a day of hard labor. The house has never looked better. Which pretty much explains why I hit the wall at about 2:00 in the afternoon and can't put together a sentence or walk in a straight line. Patty was initially thrilled to see me come home but now wishes I would go back to whatever corner of the world I crawled out from under.

I'm so tired that I could care less about riding. Part of me still cares (a very little), but I'm stuck in this hellish cycle, and I keep waking up a little earlier every morning. I'm just trying to survive right now. I'm wondering where it will stop, and whether it might permanently transform me from a righteous night person into one of those smiley, cheery, in-your-face, sickening morning persons. I am very afraid.

So tonight, I was all geared up to get home and hit the sack early, like I have tried to do the last 2 nights. Hoping that it might actually work this time. Ignoring the fact it is a seriously flawed plan because I keep waking up and staring at the ceiling for hours on end, after which time I finally get up and get all freaky productive.

But then Brandy began pestering me. Like how can we possibly not go to the park when it is so prime. See, a few degrees temperature change means that we totally have the place to ourselves again. Which is true, but that's me talking. She would go if the Rolling Stones were playing there and every 70's hippie on the planet showed up. Those that are still alive, anyway.

But anyway, she talked me into it, and I biked/she ran down there and we had an LED fris-fest of epic, cathartic proportions. (For me. It was just another normal night for her.) I took a couple of pictures, but they're somehow technologically trapped on my camera. So all I have to offer you is the aftermath:


Now I'm going all reverse psychology on myself and I'm going to stay up and watch both episodes of Chelsea. If I get to work late tomorrow, don't blame me. It's therapy!

There's riding energy trapped somewhere inside me. Hope I can set it free sometime soom. Hope I can spell sometime soom.

2 comments:

Jason said...

Pat, I think it's kind of a Catch-22. If you can find the energy to get in a little more bike riding you'll be able to get to sleep easier. On the other hand clearly my theory isn't really panning out very well for me on a day that I got in almost 30km of fast riding.

Pat S said...

Ummmm . . . yeah . . . thanks, Jason. Sincerely. I mean it. Really. Sleep advice from a guy who's posting at 2:09 am. :-)

(But you're right.)