DELVING BETWEEN THE TOES OF LIFE....I AM TOEJAM


2002-01-09 - 7:39 p.m.

I am a bad napper. Notoriously bad. I cannot sleep for less than three hours without being put into a zombie like state. I swear I sleep walk after I wake from a nap. And I always feel like there is something growing in my blood that is crawling slowly through my veins and halting the flow of normal fluids. It's weird.

Yesterday I took a short nap before getting my eyebrows done. I just had this extra forty five minutes and nothing to do. I don't remember driving to my appointment, I just remember trying to find words once I got there. They were all stuck on my tongue like a giant glop of peanut butter. And I was looking around wildly trying to focus on something. Finally the girl asked if I was okay. I just wanted to get the hell out of there.

So today I went to the tanning bed in preparation (how the hell do you spell that word?) for Miami on Friday. I always fall asleep in the tanning bed and it is the weirdest sleep. I have what I call tanning bed dreams in the twenty minutes I am in there. It is like lucid dreaming in fast forward. I pack a lot of eyelid visions in. Today when I was rudely awakened by the lights snapping off and the sudden hum of silence that falls over me once the lights and fans shut down, I was more disoriented then usual. I couldn't figure out where I was and how to get out. Finally I scooted off the bed and regained some senses. I dressed and put my shoes on. Opened the door to the room and as I was putting my foot out the door I realized I had not put my shirt on. Thank goodness no one saw me.

One time after trying on clothes at Old Navy I got home to realize I had forgotten to put my bra back on after trying on a halter top. It was my favorite bra but I was too embarrassed to go back and get it.

I am busily packing tonight, trying to scale down what I have already packed so I can bring eight pairs of shoes and my cappuccino machine. God, I am pathetic. I just remember thinking last year that I really wished I had my cappuccino machine.

My Mother is instant messaging me right now. She is talking about how she misses my Brother and wishes he'd move back to Michigan. She is saying that she is tired of fretting about him. I told her to stop fretting and she writes back....."I have to or else all my inner frets will snap like a guitar in Van Halens right hand. No, actually, more likely his left hand....not that it matters." Oh....my Mother.

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