One, I got my second stomach flu in the past two weeks.
The line for Devil, “I’m only one stomach flu away from my goal weight” has now been thoroughly tested and confirmed. But really, I’d rather keep the weight.
I left work early yesterday and climbed into bed. From there I watched the Style network, a little HGTV, TLC and some guy screeching on Fox.
Can I just say how totally and completely I am done with the Adam love-fest? Honestly, we understand what you’re saying. Really. Now, can we just move on?
Two, at about 9:00 pm as I’m barely keeping my eyes open attempting to stay awake long enough to see if Jerry would win the at home prize on Biggest Looser, Bo Duke decided it was time to have a party.
Well, sure, because Tuesday has always been the traditional evening for celebrating the middle-aged-like-I’m-at-a-college-frat-party night.
I wish I could explain to you how much sound effects my sleep. I have a noise machine loudly flooding my room with white noise. And I have earplugs.
Chris is a loud…breather.
He often tells people that if there’s some one playing a flute in Spain, I can’t sleep. I have issues.
Add in a thundering subwoofer and it’s gonna be a long night.
I went out there twice. There were only maybe 5-6 people and for the most part, they were drinking, smoking and laying in the pool. I couldn’t hear the music apart from the subwoofer. In fact, I question if there actually were any lyrics or a melody. Can you buy just bass music somewhere?
Anyway, the bass finally shut off at 11:00 pm promptly. That must be their bedtime. Which is outstanding considering mine is two hours before that.
Don’t hate. I’m on the treadmill by 4:45 am.
But unfortunately, the beat went on. As in, every time I closed my eyes I could still hear the bass thumping in my head. Somewhere around 1:00 am, I think, I feel asleep. Fabulous.
I got into work late only to hear my boss say, why are you here and you look pale.
Since I’m already nearing albino status, I can only imagine that I must look near death kind of pale.
Now, l am living in fear of getting this darn stomach thing a third time and trying to figure out how to manipulate Bo into thinking it’s a fabulous idea to grow up and stop having parties. After my bedtime. On a week night.
My money’s on none of those being successful.
The line for Devil, “I’m only one stomach flu away from my goal weight” has now been thoroughly tested and confirmed. But really, I’d rather keep the weight.
I left work early yesterday and climbed into bed. From there I watched the Style network, a little HGTV, TLC and some guy screeching on Fox.
Can I just say how totally and completely I am done with the Adam love-fest? Honestly, we understand what you’re saying. Really. Now, can we just move on?
Two, at about 9:00 pm as I’m barely keeping my eyes open attempting to stay awake long enough to see if Jerry would win the at home prize on Biggest Looser, Bo Duke decided it was time to have a party.
Well, sure, because Tuesday has always been the traditional evening for celebrating the middle-aged-like-I’m-at-a-college-frat-party night.
I wish I could explain to you how much sound effects my sleep. I have a noise machine loudly flooding my room with white noise. And I have earplugs.
Chris is a loud…breather.
He often tells people that if there’s some one playing a flute in Spain, I can’t sleep. I have issues.
Add in a thundering subwoofer and it’s gonna be a long night.
I went out there twice. There were only maybe 5-6 people and for the most part, they were drinking, smoking and laying in the pool. I couldn’t hear the music apart from the subwoofer. In fact, I question if there actually were any lyrics or a melody. Can you buy just bass music somewhere?
Anyway, the bass finally shut off at 11:00 pm promptly. That must be their bedtime. Which is outstanding considering mine is two hours before that.
Don’t hate. I’m on the treadmill by 4:45 am.
But unfortunately, the beat went on. As in, every time I closed my eyes I could still hear the bass thumping in my head. Somewhere around 1:00 am, I think, I feel asleep. Fabulous.
I got into work late only to hear my boss say, why are you here and you look pale.
Since I’m already nearing albino status, I can only imagine that I must look near death kind of pale.
Now, l am living in fear of getting this darn stomach thing a third time and trying to figure out how to manipulate Bo into thinking it’s a fabulous idea to grow up and stop having parties. After my bedtime. On a week night.
My money’s on none of those being successful.
You can indeed buy just bass music with no lyrics or melody. It's called rap.
ReplyDeleteSounds like a long night!! I had 5 students out with a stomach flu this week - eek!
ReplyDelete