I woke up super early this morning. Even with all this Benadryl I’m taking for my allergies, I’m still having trouble sleeping all the way through the night.
Ya… I’m drooling all over myself and my eyes are glazed like a Krispy Kreme but I can’t go to sleep.
…Makes plenty of sense to me.
Anyways, so what’s with the title of this bloggy? Well, I woke up around sixish something and laid in bed contemplating food.
Or really, contemplating my lack there of.
When I remember that my mother had packed a box for me of random food from her house that she wasn’t gonna use. And it was sitting in the backseat of my car.
But it’s freezing this morning, just in case any of you out there hadn’t noticed… My toes are still ice.
So I cannot will myself out from under my warm covers, even at the protesting of my (very) empty pansa.
Not until 7:30 ish anyways. I grabbed my keys and threw on my hideous Tennessee sweatshirt and my boots and head for my car.
The box wasn’t all that heavy or big. But trying to maneuver the heavy glass door to the apartment building back open, with said box in hand, was proving to be difficult.
When I finally managed to slid my boot between the small opening and kick it open, I kicked too hard. Because when the door swung back shut, it knocked me clear down the stairs.
So here we go… Me and my box of food go flying down the stairs with more than enough racket to wake the dead.
When me and my box and its strewn contents come to a stop, I begin frantically tossing food back in the box in hopes that I could dash back inside my apartment before any of my neighbors came out to see me… Sprawled out on the floor, in my pj’s and boots, with some massive crazy pillow hair.
When I look up, two doors are open with people peeking out. And there’s another woman looking down at me from the upper floor, over the railing.
“You want some help down there?” She asks so loud. Her voice carried all the way to the end of the hall, I’m sure.
I don’t quite know the intensity of the shade of red I turned, but I tell you what, my ears were so hot, I could feel the waves of heat as they rolled.
Mortally embarrassed to have had such a large audience to my clutziness and sense of fashion so early in the morning, I waved her off. “Thank you, but I’ll be fine.”
With my head down, I get my box packed and back in my apartment.
So… That was fun. (Insert sarcasm.) Until I discovered we didn’t have one clean spoon in the apartment with which to eat my oatmeal.
And the only utensil I find that could remotely work was a spatula thingy majig…
And since I’m sleep deprived…
And… Possibly losing some sanity…?
Now… To find a J.O.B.
No, really. Why are you laughing?