Last night, insomnia came to visit. Guess I finally went to sleep somewhere around 2am, waking at 2:37am with what felt like a bladder the size of a watermelon. I stumbled to the bathroom and found that the contents of my bladder wouldn't have filled a Dixie cup. Which is good, because come on, people use those for rinsing their mouths out after brushing. Plus, I don't think they've ever been properly tested. I stumbled back to bed, whacking my leg on something I've still not identified. Whatever it was? Was pointy. I have a very defined bruise on my inner thigh. That's attractive. Matches the bruise on my left forearm. Necklace and earring set? Wrong girl. I accessorize with matching bruises!
I then proceeded to wake again around 3:02am to pee another thimble, then again at 3:48am. I was at least able to get rid of a respectable amount in that visit. Ah yes, finally off to slumber, where I dreamt I was on the toilet. I was woken from my dream by the sounds of Styx singing "Renegade". I was in and out of the dream, wondering in my subconscious if I was back in college? Because what college party DIDN'T play this song, as well as Brown Eyed Girl, Hotel California, and...wait. I'm totally off track. Anyway, I began to hum to Renegade, still in and out of the dream. I woke up when the music stopped, sort of like a game of Hot Potato. I heard footsteps coming closer...closer...and...darn if I wasn't really on the toilet. My poor husband. All he wanted to do was wake up for work, walk past the bathroom, and not see his lovely wife...asleep on the toilet. Isn't that what every man wants?
And THAT, my dear friends...is rock bottom.
Like Styx says, "The jig is up, the news is out - They finally found me" :::asleep on the toilet:::
And if you loved that song like I always did...http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vBYlblAFvTU