I bet you guys are all wondering what a day in the life of Sunny is like. They are all similar, but with key differences that make it possible for me to drag my depleted carcass out of bed every morning.
Last night I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know why. I was just inexplicably alert and awake–ready to tackle some procrastinated task or to make amends to burned bridges. I wanted to talk. At around 1am I texted an arsenal of friends–hoping that someone would be as eager to converse as I was.
So, I sat there in my bed with the new, not yet broken in, sheets–staring at the ceiling fan above me. All sorts of feelings rushed over my body during that five minute span of time. I never find more peace of mind than in the middle of the night.
I remained as motionless as the world outside for over an hour-gazing numbly in the direction of the television. At 2am your options are limited in terms of quality programming. But, here’s a little secret: Animal Planet never goes to infomercials. Neither does ESPN, but they do repeat Sportscenter over and over (and over) throughout the night until you’ve memorized every single unfunny pun and uncomfortable banter the newscasters deliver to one another. So, it’s just as bad as the Magic Bullet paid programming. Seriously. Maybe worse.
This pattern of unpredictability in my sleeping habits is nothing if not painfully torturous. I try desperately to go to bed at a normal time. My mom is a school teacher and thus has to get up fairly early in order to be at work on time. So, I take a cue from my parents and start preparing for slumber at 11pm or so. Give or take 30 minutes. I begin my process of winding down. Wash my face. Brush my teeth. Change into Pajamas. And tuck myself into bed. But, then sleep never comes easily.
My mind just races and races over the events of the day, what I should have done differently, how stupid I was in a particular instance, or how am I ever going to prepare myself for the future, did I remember to refill the pup’s water bowl, what am I going to wear to that family event two weeks from now, are they all going to judge me? Etc. Etc. The list continues.
It’s called ANXIETY people. And I haz it.
I can’t rest at night because I have too much to worry about for tomorrow.
But, honestly my days couldn’t be any more stress free. It’s absurd that I’m so paranoid and high-strung all the fucking time. I wake up tired. And that feeling of enervation continues throughout the remaining hours. It’s unreal, truly.
Today I went to bed at six in the morning after watching all of the recorded DVR episodes of House Hunters, Top Chef, and Reno 911.
I then slept until 11:30am when I was awoken by the vibration of my cell phone informing me that I had a text message. That phone is my kryptonite. I fall asleep with it curled inside my palm every night. It’s a sickness.
So, I woke up. Came downstairs. My dad was on the computer working on a photo order. And per usual, I head straight out the back door to say, “Good morning ladies! Good morning to you!” to Harper and Raleigh. I pick up whatever mess they have gotten themselves into that night/morning. Today the treasure of the hour was a kleenex that they had shredded and were subsequently playing keep away with. Keep away is by far their favorite game. And the special magic object this morning was far more preferable (to me, the owner) to some of the other things they search out and destroy. Anything is fair game out there. You name it–they’ve eaten it. So, a kleenex dangling from Harp’s mouth today was just flat out adorable and not evil.
After that, I feed the dogs two scoops each of Iams Smart Puppy dog food. Harper gets three squirts of Fatty Oils in hers along with two Glucosamine/Chondroitin pills and one Puppy Advil.
Then I typically come inside, check my email, check my facebook, and check a major news network to make sure the world was still intact. And then I proceed to peruse Craigslist for hours on end. I’m constantly searching for jobs that I qualify for in the San Antonio area. Today I was also looking for landscaping rocks that people were giving away in the Houston area. I noticed that my puppies have caused quite a bit of damage to my mom’s garden in the backyard. And by a bit of damage I mean that parts of the yard look post-apocalyptic. Dogs make trails. Dogs dig. Dogs roll around and kill things. Dogs eat plants. Dogs eat flowers. Dogs run through the bushes and destroy things. They do this.
And I wanted to put some landscaping rocks in certain areas that they have turned into a disaster zone to re-beautify everything a little bit.
I then took a break and helped my dad with some of the crossword puzzle solutions. It’s become a daily ritual of ours–except for on Sundays-to take turns answering the crossword in the Houston Chronicle. We are way too pretentious to crack open the puzzle in the local paper. But, way too stupid to do the New York Times crossword. We are very particular. Of course we also routinely avert our eyes to the Jumble section to quickly solve those and prove our intelligence to ourselves. I’ve always treasured these moments. My dad is self-employed as a photographer and it’s great to get to spend time with him every day. I never take that for granted.
And then since we had a rare break in the clouds and the rain–I ran outside to sweep the back porch of dog debris and the leaves from the Oak tree that have started to fall– signaling that autumn is in fact near. I have to douse myself in chemicals to keep those damn fucking shit faced mosquitos off of me during any period of stagnation I spend in the backyard. So, the dogs start sneezing. Then I start sneezing. Then I regain composure and start to sweep again. The dogs try to bite the broom and start barking at it manically–so I threw them in the laundry room and finished quickly thereafter.
I then picked up dog poop with the shit shovel and then the drizzle set in.
I came inside, grabbed my camera, and decided I wanted to take a picture of Harper doing something that she does that we all agree is super cutesie. We have a dog house that my dad built out of wood about 10 years ago for our recently deceased pup–and it rests against the privacy fence next to our backyard.
Harper is a big ole’ girl. She’s a Rough Collie like Lassie and at 8 months is already close to 50 pounds. She’s lean, long and lanky. And when someone is in the driveway shooting baskets or mucking about in the garage–she will prop her front paws on the fence and peer her little face over. All you can make out is collie nose, ears and paws from the other side. AND IT’S SO ADORABLE.
But, she wouldn’t’ cooperate when there was a big scary camera in my hand. And I was getting soaked. What is this Seattle? Meh, So, I came inside.
Then I plopped myself down on the couch, grabbed a generic brand Coke Zero, burrowed myself under two blankets despite it being hot as shit fuck, and then watched crap tv all morning.
The rest of the day was spent working out–I typically do a lot of crunches, lunges, and push-ups during the afternoon hours. Lunch was a baked potato with Tilamook cheese and some fritos. Snack was Corn Pops, Baked Tostitos and almonds. Dinner was Sweet Tea, Hummus, and 1.5 slices of thin crust Hamburger Pizza from the Hut. Yeah, I still count my calories sometimes. Shut up.
I took a bath today, washed my hair with the special Minty smell good stuff, washed my face a bajillion times because I’m getting a new blemish, played the hell out of my guitar, broke a string, threw the golf ball for the dog for thirty minutes, read a HouseBeautiful magazine, watched some more shit tv, got my general practitioner switched, saved a spider, killed a mosquito, looked at some new baby clothes for my niece, got a great deal on Sabra Hummus at Kroger, listened to talk radio, got a job interview, re-connected with a friend I’d been unknowingly treating like shit, remembered how much I liked another friend, and realized how much I missed my girlfriend, made sweet plans for the weekend, jammed out to some Brandi Carlile. And now I’m going to go watch Bones, the Office, and Parks and Recreation with the last cold beer in my hand.
And so it goes.