Why I Shouldn't Be Blogging Right Now...

According to a poll released Tuesday by the National Sleep Foundation (NSF), 60 percent of American women say they don't get enough sleep. And working mothers (72 percent) were the most likely to experience sleep problems such as insomnia. Shocking revelation, right?!

As reported in Newsweek:

"Women spend the last hour before bedtime watching television, doing household chores, or working in front of a computer. All of these activities make it harder to fall asleep."

So guess how I spent my last hour? Editing an article. Answering e-mail. Reading Newsweek online while trying to think of something to blog about (see, I found it!). My Web activity was also interspersed with channel-surfing, watching "General Hospital," and going through piled up mail and papers. And, yes, through it all, I've been exhausted. I didn't sleep well last night, although it was better than the night before. I could pass out right here on the couch with my laptop on my lap. But this is the only "me" time I have in the day. C'mon, working moms, admit it: Wouldn't you rather sacrifice a little sleep than give up your alone time? Once I publish this, though, I have to head to bed. I'm shot.

So off I'll go. And lie there. And lie there some more. That's when I start thinking about all the crap I have to do tomorrow. Then I hear J.J. rustling around and start praying it's not going to be one of those inexplicably bad nights with him. Then I turn over and realize how loud and rhythmically Pat is snoring. Now I have to take off my socks because I'm hot. And then put them back on 10 minutes later because I'm shivering. I finally get comfortable and then I get a sudden uncontrollable itch on my calf. Don'tcha freakin' hate that?! I scratch and scratch just short of drawing blood. The itching stops -- thank God! I roll onto my back and I'm comfortable, except now I have to sit up to fix my ponytail, which is digging into the back of my head. Aarggghhh! Oh forget it. Now I'm up. I might as well see who's on Letterman. Is it too late to pop an Advil p.m.?

G'night.

Coincidence, Conspiracy, or Just That Time of the Month

Once each month I have a breakdown. And when I calm down, I chalk it up to it having been that "time of the month." But I swear, there are many months when it's not just my out-of-whack hormones that send me into couch-punching cursefests or uncontrollable crying fits (when I'm by myself, of course). It really does seem that the moon and planets align against me and crazy shit always seems to rain down at my most vulnerable time.

Take for instance this past weekend... I was told that we owe the IRS about $3,500 and had to hear that it's "my fault" because I do too much freelance work. As if I should turn down legal, lucrative work opportunities to spite the government. Oh, but we need to buy a house so we have a write-off. Which means I need to keep making money. Do you see where I'm going with this? But it is what it is... and I wasn't all that surprised, and have been socking cash away for this rainy day.

Onto the next day, a snowy one, actually. Here I am trying to calm down a tantrum-throwing J.J. (yes, we've just entered that fun new phase) while sitting double-parked in our car because we couldn't find a spot on my block for a half hour. I manage to get him to laugh only to turn around to see that a traffic cop was writing me a $115 ticket... even though I was in the car... and it was running... and I had no problem moving it... hence why I stayed in the car... but the biatch didn't tell me to move because and I quote, "it's not her job"!!! (Can you hear the fury in my angry typing?!) After I threw a tantrum of my own, the experience helped reinforce the idea that a new house with a driveway would be fabulous. That night, the falling snow was pretty, and J.J.'s excitement over it made me smile.

But when it rains (or snows), it pours. Right now, I'm listening to that pretty snow drip into J.J.'s room. The roof is leaking again. Drip. It's so freakin' (drip) annoying, distracting, and infuriating since (drip) I realize this means I'll be paying for a whole new roof for a house I don't plan to live in much longer (DRIP!). The last three people who patched it up -- yes, this is a reoccuring problem -- said we can't put off getting a new roof if it leaks again, "but you won't have to worry about it for at least five years"). Or in reality, more like six months. Just in time to ruin the vacation plans I finally convinced myself were OK to make, even though I just got slammed on my taxes and should be saving for that house with ample parking.

And to top it off? I just got my period. Wait -- that's good news! Things can go back to normal again. 'Til next month...

Only 54 More Shopping Days 'Til Christmas...

I am what most would call punctual. An early bird by no means, but certainly never late. And in my deadline-driven life, I'm always more effective when an impending due date is closing in, rather than far off in the distance. I live by the clock and calendar in my capacity as a writer/editor, and can't afford to miss a beat when it comes to fulfilling my little guy's daily demands. In short, (caution: literary reference ahead), a particular line of poetry rings very true in my daily life:

"While at my back I always hear, Time's winged chariot, hurrying near..."

Perhaps that why I'm rebelling against this year's sense of urgency in regards to Christmas shopping season. I hit a toy store this past weekend to pick up some last minute Halloween goodies and I could barely navigate my shopping cart without bumping into some stressed-out parent with a shopping list and a cell phone, trying to find out if little Molly would rather have Bella Dancerella or Polly Pockets under the tree. And although it's against my policy to become one of those parents, I actually thought it would be a good idea to pick up a Christmas outfit for my son so I can start trying to snap the perfect holiday card photo. Guess what? All the nice outfits are SOLD OUT... IN OCTOBER! Are we as a consumer society losing our collective minds?

As much as I've tried to resist the Great Christmas Push of 2006, I can't help but feeling like I've already blew my shot at this year's hottest toys, missed the best sales, and now, as punishment, have to stand in out-the-door lines with the rest of the "last-minute shoppers." Only 54 more shopping days 'til Christmas... It might as well be midnight on Christmas Eve, and the last store in town is about to close.

It used to be so nice to space out my shopping during the month of December -- ya know, after Thanksgiving -- enjoy the holiday rush, and find the perfect gift for a loved one. (That was also back when every gift wasn't mandated to me from a wishlist, but I'll save that for another vent session.) Even if I was still shopping the weekend before the holiday, I was always completely done and wrapped with a day or two to spare. But in 2006, I've already missed the boat. My son may have to wear pastel spring colors in his holiday photo, and my gift recipients will have to settle for gift cards or cheesy I.O.U. printouts of items that are on backorder.

Speaking of which, I've gotta go. If I hurry, I can get in my pre-order for the 2007 Tickle Me Elmo Extreme Anniversary Edition Volume II.