I Have No Job, and Yet I Have a Severe Case of the Mondays

Let's start at 4:39am. No, wait, it actually began somewhere in the three o'clock hour. All that I did was roll over. Sadly, the fitted sheet on our bed had a small tear in it. The Ralph Lauren fitted sheet which goes with the whole set we got as a wedding present that I love, oh god I love, and is part of the only complete set of bedding we own. Well, the tear happened to be just the same size as my toe, and when I flipped, the whole thing made this horrible riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip sound. Seems as though my wretched toe tore the whole sheet end to end on the bottom. Somehow I manage to fall back to sleep, despite being depressed that the only grown up bed clothes we have are now ruined.

So we're back to 4:39am, Sam woke up, howling his tiny head off, which continued nearly unabated for the next 82 minutes. He would fall asleep in my embrace, which is always sweet no matter what time of day or night, but wake up mere seconds after I would lay him down. Coincidentally (or not) he would usually realize he wasn't nuzzled in my warm bosom the same second my foot climbed the last step back up to my room.

Finally, at 6:01am he stayed asleep. I reasoned that since he had been awake for so long, he would probably sleep in a little, right? WRONG! At 7am sharp the boy was up and raring to go. Grumpily, I trudged back down the effing steps, and as I opened his door, I saw something odd in the dim morning light, on the floor right next to his hamper. 'What is that?', I wondered. I flicked the light switch and was greeted by a huge dead cockroach. Seriously. Luckily, as it was on it's back, I was fairly certain it was dead. I got a million tissues and picked it up. I gave it a little squeeze, just in case, and threw it into the diaper pail. I figured if somehow it wasn't quite dead, the smell in there would finish it off.

I picked up the screaming baby and tended to his needs, thoughts racing about prehistoric insects crawling over my dear boy during his slumber. Once he was well suited, I went in to brush my teeth and such. When I glanced in the mirror, I noticed my nose was missing. Upon further inspection, I found it wasn't missing, it was just merely obstructed from view by the massive pimple in front of it. I dabbed some zip cream on it and tried to pretend it wasn't there.

Sam and I then headed downstairs, which is a dangerous place if one's house may or may not be infested with roaches. I figure that if there was one roach upstairs, where there is no food at all, there is likely to be hundreds, if not thousands, of roaches downstairs in the kitchen, where a free standing dish of cat food is like an all-you-can-eat buffet. I didn't see any bugs, but I was still a little twitchy. So very twitchy, in fact, that when the cat jumped on the coffee table, my efforts to shoo him away resulted in the knocking over of a 32 ounce cup of water directly onto the laptop, my cell phone, and Sam, who was on the floor. Probably playing with dead roach legs.

As you can see, the computer is fine. The cell phone, too, is in proper working condition. Sam is napping and I just got up from a nap. I decided that I wasn't leaving the house until I started this day over. So far, not nearly as bad! I cheered myself up a little by re-watching Beck's SNL performance from this past weekend. Check it out!