Narcolepsy

I couldn't sleep. It doesn't happen to me very often because I'm not a true worrier; I usually see that worrying has no effect on problems and therefore shouldn't make me miss sleep.

But last night I felt like I could sleep when I'm dead.

It's the job thing that got me. It's the not having a job thing, actually. Now it's sliding from the guilt to the no effect on society whatsoever feeling. If I make my husband bankrupt, then he should divorce me. But, if I don't DO anything with my life ever, I can't rightly divorce myself. What a creed to live by, huh?

Another thing is that in the two months I've been married, I've gone to church twice. This really outlines my devotion, though not in the way that might be perceived. Obviously, I'm not going to go to church, through sleet rain snow ice, but I really do like to be there. It's the new kid thing again; it's not so bad for the first two hours, because I get to be the new kid with Caleb. But, the last hour is the women and the men seperately. So, I get to sit next to either no one or a stranger. And of course, most LDS ladies are really nice and welcoming, but I don't want to be welcomed. I want to be the welcomer. But I can never do that if I don't go. I thought no one would notice (except Caleb, who has made it twice without me, making his grand total come to 4), but our upstairs neighbor commented to Caleb that we're "not really at church a lot." This didn't seem to affect Caleb, as he blew it off completely. He told me about it and I proceeded to go through about 17 emotions, none of which were rational. I've decided that she was just being kind, noticing our absence, but that is underlined with a steaming hot bitterness about judgmental people who should mind their own business. But, it was meant well, I'm sure. And it's not like I can go back and change the last two months. But, I don't want to be the new kid.

I finally came to an agreement about Halloween costumes with Caleb. It turns out that it was a money issue with him, which he never mentioned to me. We agreed on being Jim and Pam, though I'm not sure either of us fit the physical profiles. I'm excited to get new white sneakers and a pencil skirt and Caleb is going to get a light blue button-down. How we'll avoid the "you didn't even dress up!" scene, I'll never know. But, it's our first holiday as a married pair, so I'll allow certain compromises.

I'm considering the whole "work from home" option, if only because they seem to be so abundant. At least then I can be home when Caleb decides to be home. I'm really distrusting of anything like that, and I probably won't go through with it, but in job hunting online, I've found a ton. And I don't even deem it necessary to get the $150K they're offering. I can take like, a fraction of it.

Every Sunday, I'm addicted to postsecret.blogspot.com. I love people's secrets, even if they're strangers. I've sent in some of my own, none of them ever posted. I was even going to make some last night, but I don't want to make anything Caleb will find. They're secrets that no one's supposed to know!

My fish won't eat. When he was at my sister in law's for a night, she said he ate everything she put in his bowl. Every time he's in our house, though, he just lets the food chill there. This disappoints me, because the food is supposed to be color promoting; I would love to see my red betta fish even more red. And, I've never had a pet die that I've had to dispose of, so if he dies, I have to flush him! All of the guinea pigs I had were taken to the vet by my mom or buried in the backyard by my dad. Well, and when my dog died a month ago or so, I was in Utah, so I didn't even see her. All of this boils down to the fact that if my fish starves himself to death, I'll be really pissed.

Caleb expressed an interest in taking an IQ test. Now, I'm no dummy, but I am petrified to take an IQ test. I am almost positive that if I take one, I will be on the average end of the scale. This would ruin my self-image and hinder the growth of myself and my children. So, I've decided to let Caleb take the test if he wants and (probably mistakenly) believe that I'm nearing MENSA proportions.

My grandma has a dinner at her house every Sunday to which she invites all of the nearby relatives. This has happened since my freshman year, but a lot has changed since then. Grandpa died that first winter, we don't have pot roast every week now and there are far more relatives around. Not everyone comes every week, but since we are one of the only cars available, Caleb and I make it to every Sunday dinner. Usually, it's my two sisters, Caleb's sister and 3 or 4 of my cousins; however, any one of these people can bring guests. This typically means that two people might bring one person each. But since this school year has started, my cousin Diane has decided to bring 6 noisy 19 year old girls every week. This can be taxing on the ride situation, the food situation and the sanity situation. Grandma's house is really a condo, so it's not spacious. Grandma's kitchen allows for only about 4 people in it at a time. It's nearing the point where my husband might take Diane aside and tell her that she's broken the unspoken rule of guests at Grandma's. Even if he never gets around to that, I hope every one of those girls get hit by a train, because they dis Grandma's food every week. If you don't like it, then stay home! Sheesh.

I hope you didn't read all of this, because it was all the crap I've been thinking, none of it pertaining to you. I hope this is a great boring start to your great boring day.