It's 3:58 am and I've been awake since 2:30 when Dan came to bed. Why am I awake? Because if I could get paid for worrying, you'd be calling me Trump.
You know how they give the pollen count on the news each day and if the count is very high the oh so helpful newscasters advise staying home, or at the very least, staying indoors if at all possible? Well, I need to post a Crazy Count at the beginning of each blog so you know whether it's safe to read or if you should just stay inside because this entry will drive you to drinking in bars with guys named Paulo and letting him paint your toenails metallic green.
Today's count? Off the charts. Infiniti point 5. Flashing warning lights and sirens and caution tape everywhere.
So what am I worrying about? Everything from the great big stuff (the economy, the election, the gas crisis) to the little stuff (buying one set of groceries to use at Mom's house during the week and another set to keep here at my house for the weekend, whether I'll do laundry at Mom's or bring it home to wash, how to transport my dog back and forth without getting dog hair all over my car each week, what I'll do at Mom's house on nights like this when I can't sleep).
I've been tossing and turning, mentally arranging and decorating my new classroom, hanging bulletin boards, setting up stations, planning lessons, and designing my class website. My brain hurts from thinking so hard.
I fell asleep on the couch at 9:45 tonight (last night?) but I couldn't stay asleep once I went to bed because Dan was still up. Then, when he finally came to bed at 2:30 (musicians are such night owls, ugh) I was wide awake. For a solid hour I tried to go back to sleep but my mind was racing and I was afraid I'd set my pillow on fire with all the smoke coming out of my ears.
So. I'm up. I'm going to find something to read and try to relax. I'm sure I'll fall asleep again just about the time the kids are waking up.