so there I was making out with Stephen Colbert

Who wouldn't want to make out with that face?

I haven't been sleeping well recently, and by "recently" I mean since we started this whole let's-buy-a-new-house odyssey (which was back here, if you've lost track). It's not anything in particular--I'm thrilled about our new house and ecstatic that we sold THIS house as quickly and painlessly as we did--it's just a lot of little things.

Like the fact that we haven't packed ONE SINGLE THING. Nada. Zero! ZIP! And that every time I look around I think dammit we have a LOT OF STUFF. That needs to be PACKED. Soon.

Argh.

My nights go like this: after barely managing to stay awake long enough to get the kids settled, I scramble around to get some work or some laundry done. Then I get into bed and fall asleep and wake up again, somewhere between 1:00 and 3:00 am, worrying. My whole body is worried; my SKIN feels worrisome, kind of prickly and uncomfortable. I don't know how else to explain it. I toss and turn and think about getting up, but most of the time I'm too tired to do anything constructive like read or write. One night I folded laundry for an hour and a half. I make lists, in my head and on pieces of paper, of Things To Do Tomorrow, which sort of helps although then I get anxious because I can't DO anything RIGHT NOW, but really nothing is open at three am anyway. And THEN I start to think about how if I had some boxes, I could get up and start packing stuff, which is when I really begin to feel like I am losing my mind because what am I going to pack at THREE AM when everyone else is sleeping?

Deep breath.

I have these odd moments when I think, I cannot believe that in a few weeks we will not live in this house any more. I am a little afraid of the new house, because it is bigger and nicer and newer and because I've only been inside it three times and I can't remember what color the living room is painted and I know we don't have enough furniture to fill it up. It's not really the house that is making me worry--I love the house, I really do--it's the whole idea of change.

I don't like change.

Last night, when I snapped awake at 1:47, instead of endlessly listing all the things I HAVE NOT DONE, I started listing all the things that I have finished, because I thought maybe that would help me calm down. Eventually, sometime after 4:30 or so, it did, I guess, because when Charlie came in at 5:22 to tell me that his nose was bleeding, I was dreaming that I was on a date with Stephen Colbert.

Yes, really.

Apparently, I have a thing for nerdy guys in suits, at least in my dreams. Although I suppose that describes my husband, too, really. Hmmm.

Anyway, there I was making out with Stephen Colbert and Charlie came in to say, "Mama, I'm BLEEDING AGAIN" which pretty much put an end to the dream and to any hope that I might score some more sleep before it was time to get up and start the day. And the saddest part was that while I was bummed to not being mashing with Colbert any more, I was more bummed that I wasn't going to get ANY MORE SLEEP.

Because I am that tired.