This is post #18.
• • • • • • • • • • • •
Last night I slept down in the guest room. This is because my cold has now reached the "hacking up a lung" stage, while my husband's cold is still in its infancy. Yesterday, despite malingering, he managed to paint the new stairwell AND clean the bathrooms AND shovel the driveway. My accomplishments: hang up five pictures in the guest room, mend a set of pillow cases, bake Irish soda bread, cook stew, watch Murder, She Wrote and write a blog post. Damn -- I'm lazy.
But I digress.
I decided to sleep in the basement so he could sleep in our bed without my deep, chesty cough that sounds like a seal in heat (or so I assume) waking him up. Fogo had other plans, however. Twice in the night she woke him up to be let out due to "intestinal issues." My sleep wasn't particularly restive but followed the same pattern as it has every night for the eight days. Fall asleep until about 3 AM. Wake up desperate to pee thanks to drinking hot lemon and tea constantly during my waking hours. Drift in and out of consciousness for several more hours, never achieving REM sleep, coughing and blowing my nose periodically. Then at 5 AM, the cats (sensing that I'm sort of awake) start agitating to be fed. In Ezri's case: by sitting next to me and purring loudly. Osiris prefers sniffing my open mouth or sitting on my chest glaring menacingly.
WHY DO WE HAVE SO MANY ANIMALS?!?!
All the same it was nice to wake up and look around the recently painted guest room. We did a great job purging the room of extraneous stuff. I am ridiculously happy that our bookcases look like this:
Of course, the ones in the family room (which also houses our homeschool nook) are bursting.
It's got me thinking that we should makeover our bedroom.
But first I'll need to start sleeping through the night.