Today I feel how one feels when one has used up her happy quota. It’s exhausting being in a good mood. I’m completely pooped. Worn out. Outta gas. It doesn’t mean I’m not smiling, however. Of course, it’s only because I’m in an exhausted stupor. You know, instead of an energetic stupor, if there is such a thing.
Part of it is caused by an ever growing list of computer/blog/design related things. I just can’t find the same amount of time I used to in order to get it done. I’ve been looking for a new theme, and am less than thrilled by nearly all of them. This one is great except for the comment glitch that Cooper graciously offered a fix for and I haven’t gotten around to fixing. How rude is that? Good thing I don’t do this for a living, right? Jeez. And part of it is because I’ve been up way late for a few nights and am seriously dragging. Too much sunshine and fresh air with no beauty rest can’t possibly be good for a house potato, can it?
But it is frustrating, because I truly enjoy it all, and my cup’s feeling a bit half empty over the whole thing. Plus, I’m seriously behind on my blog visits — another thing that makes me smile. S.L.A.C.K.E.R. I know. I’ll work on it.
And I’ve been messing around with that cat in my sidebar. It’s very addicting.
So here I am. Falling asleep at the keyboard, all the while knowing I’ve got to think about dinner, tune in to see how the primaries are going today, get revved up for American Noodle, and all I want to do is snooze. I’ll blame it on those jelly doughnuts I was writing about last night until 1am. *yawn*
But I’m not a napper. I don’t know how people do that. On rare occasions when I’ve fallen asleep early in the day, it just makes me cranky. You’re imagining how much crankier that is than normal, right? What. Ever.
Eight solid hours tonight will set me straight. In the meantime, the RTR sent me this in an email which is pretty hilarious since his computer is about six feet from this one. If you have cats, just take a look, because it is so true. The ripped underside of the mattress, the persistent “feed me” routine — whatever it is.