I have a few bad habits. One is gnawing on my fingers around my nails. Another is eating food I am craving to great excess. A third is sleeping on the couch. My mom always did this and now I do.
I get so tired at night while watching TV, the thought of dragging myself upstairs to wash my face and get in to bed is overwhelming. Silly, I know. It doesn't happen every night, but at least a couple a week.
Last night, true to form, I rolled over on the couch to call it a night. I have about an inch of studio make-up on. It is horrible. I always get so mad at myself when I wake up on the couch with my eyes stuck together and my makeup smeared.
T begged me to come upstairs for a few minutes, but I remained in a tired heap. Around 5:00 a.m. I finally managed to drag myself upstairs for a good face-washing. Why does something so small seem like such a huge deal?
Q was particularly precious this morning. He has taken to saying, "Bah, bah" as he waves. I kept picking him up to squeeze and kiss on him. He would complain and writhe away to continue on with whatever he was busy with at the moment. Sweet little guy.
--MM
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