My life has become a pursuit of sleep and food. Which, really, wouldn't be so bad if I didn't want to have at least the ghost of a social life, and if I wasn't supposed to be working eight hours each day.

Last night I got home from work, had a snack, checked my e-mail, poked around online at a few things, and then - having forty-five minutes before Matt and I were supposed to meet Braz and Kris and Jeremy and Elizabeth for dinner - went to take a nap.

I don't usually voluntarily take naps if I have less than two hours to spare. But yesterday evening, forty-five minutes of sleep sounded better than nothing. So I went upstairs and crawled into bed and left the light on, in the hope that I wouldn't fall too deeply asleep.

When Matt came to wake me up, he said, "You were so tired you forgot to turn off the light!"

It seemed obvious to me that I'd left it on because it takes me twice as long to get up and out of bed in the dark. Ah, well. I got up, and we went to dinner.

I wasn't really hungry, having eaten a handful of peanuts two hours earlier. (Okay, the peanuts probably had nothing to do with it. I'm grasping at straws, here.) On the other hand, I've found lately that sometimes once I start eating, my appetite revives.

So I got the salad bar and a baked potato. I'm glad I only had one plate of salad, because I felt full before I'd half-finished the potato. I picked at it through the whole meal, and managed to eat out the insides by the time everyone else was done. I'd meant to eat the skin (where the actual nutrients are) but I just couldn't get there.

One plate of salad and a baked potato. And let's not forget the handful of peanuts I'd had two hours earlier. And yet, from 10:30 in the morning to 3 in the afternoon, I can't stop eating.

Weird weird weird.

Oh, and then on the way home, I had an episode of semi-psychosis, which was thankfully fairly mild and did not leave Matt wondering if he could quietly move into a hotel for the next six months or so.

But then we got home, and I wrote that blog entry, and then I went to bed. In bed by ten, asleep by 10:30, and I only barely woke up when Matt came to bed an hour later. I didn't wake up at all when the cat came in to do his morning wake-up schtick. You'd think I'd be feeling well-rested.

Ha!

--Liz