  I came home this evening with a giant pit of doom in my stomach. I felt like I'd had the worst day ever. Most of my worst day-ness stems from not sleeping more than an hour or two last night. I'm not a person who can function without sleep. In fact, I actually need more sleep than most people. I wasn't always this way, so I blame it on four years of physically growing babies, either inside or out. Maybe after Ellie's weaned my sleep dependency will end. Anyway, the reason I didn't sleep is that my husband is in San Francisco for the stupidest training workshop ever.
What kind of leadership training rips people away from their families for two weeks? Don't good leaders need solid families? Before I got married I lived alone. In fact, for one summer when I interned with DOI-Bureau of Reclamation at a University of Kansas office, I lived in a creepy little room high up in a church bell tower. One side of the room was the piping for the ancient and gigantic pipe organ, and the other was the church's stone facade with a stain glass window that looked over downtown Lawrence, Kansas. In exchange for locking up at night and shooing away lingering homeless, I received lodging in the small room. Aside from the empty church at night, the creepy part was that the hallway my stairs emptied into on the ground floor was also the politely out of sight nook to keep the caskets before funerals.
And still, I slept every night. Since getting married, or maybe more accurately, since having kids (I don't know which was the bigger influencer), I don't sleep when I'm alone. Part of me is afraid of not hearing an alarming noise if I fall asleep. Part of me is just unsettled without my usual companion. John sleeps like a rock all the time, and I sleep very light so I don't think we're much less safe when he's gone.
It's completely mental. So I'm a ninny and I can't sleep when I'm alone. That's not the only thing wrong, though. This afternoon I got a ticket for having expired inspection and registration. I had the new registration sticker... at home. And I didn't worry too much about the inspection because 1) I know our car is environmentally sound, and 2) when I've gotten one of the expired inspection tickets in the past remedy was as simple as presenting the new inspection and paying the court fees.
Not this time. $130 flat fine for having a too long expired sticker (60+ days). Then, I got an email from a guy we bought ebay tickets from, saying our check bounced, he'll be pressing charges under the Texas Hot Check Statute, and John's never flying SWA again. This is really confusing because we had enough money in the account, in fact, before he mailed the tickets his wife called our credit union to verify that.
Much later, on the phone, the guy was a pussy cat. I wish he hadn't thought he needed to be so mean and abrasive up front because he really contributed to my awful day. For several hours, I thought I had a giant credit-cleaning, NTSB rectifying debacle on my hands. To top everything off, the kids are just bears. Especially Aidan, but both of them really turn a little psycho when their dad's away. They miss him horribly. It's the price you pay for successfully attachment parenting. When I came home, I opened my website out of habit, and clicked on the link in my blogroll some beyond thought part of my brain figured to be most consoling: Gwen's Petty, Judgmental, Evil Blog.
Turns out she had urlLink an even worse day than I did last Sunday, the very day that I and my family enjoyed our best day in many. Our last together before John left, and our first all healthy since this flu ravaged us, we took the lightrail to Rice, and walked through Rice to the village for breakfast at Croissant Brioche. Poor Gwen was having a rotten day all that while. I'm so sorry. 
