stormy--'s Diaryland Diary

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The Day I finally got some sleep!

Today has been a good day! The skies were a clear, crystal blue, temperatures have gotten a tad cooler giving the air a hint of the approaching fall, and I got over 9 hours of sleep last night!

I know getting a full night’s sleep isn’t something people usually jump up and down in joy about, but for me it’s almost like a relief. I’ve been getting only 2-3 hours (sometimes not even that) in each night ever since someone tried to break into my garage. Needless to say, I was (and kind of still am) one tired girl! And I think the lack of sleep has been messing with my focus and concentration. It was so hard to get any work done this week. Most days I could be found sitting in my office chair, slumped over with my hand holding up my chin, and staring off into space. And the headache! It’s been pretty constant this week. It wasn’t a migraine - thank goodness - but the constant dull ache just wouldn’t go away. But then this morning when I woke up it was just gone! Yay for sleep!

I actually have to thank my cop friend for getting me to sleep. These past few days he’s called a few times but mostly we’ve been texting back and forth. Last night he called me because he wanted to hear my voice. Yeah…. He likes me. Everyone said he did and they were all right. Gold stars all around! I’m just struggling with it a little.

But, getting back on topic…. When we were talking last night he said that I sounded off. At first I blamed it on having a headache, but when he kept asking me questions I let it slip that I’ve been having trouble sleeping. I don’t know why but my first instinct when having a discussion with the people in my life is to hide my true feelings because I’m afraid of what they’ll think of me or what my feelings would say about me. (I don’t know. I just know that was something my therapist and I talked about in depth during my online therapy session this week. Fun stuff.) And, to be honest, it’s all kind of embarrassing. Here I am, a grown ass woman, having trouble sleeping because someone attempted to break into my garage. And it was just my garage. They didn’t try to get in my house through my doors or my windows. They didn’t somehow bypass my security system (yes, I have a security system and I’ve still been freaked!). And it was a failed attempt on my garage at that. I guess I just didn’t want him to think of me as a wuss. (And this is where one could question why it matters to me so much if he thinks of me as a wuss when I’m still struggling with the idea of him liking me. Yes, all of you out there wondering that very thing are all very wise. {Is all of this just one big example of why guys think girls are crazy? Huh… Or maybe it’s just me.})

So last night my cop friend told me that he was going to help me sleep and instructed me to get into bed and get comfortable. My immediate thought was, “Umm. What?”, and I told myself that if our conversation turned inappropriate I was hanging up. There was not going to be any boom-chicka-maow-maow shenanigans going on last night. But he didn’t attempt to start anything like that. Using a soft and soothing voice, he started talking. He told me more about his family and some of his friends he made while in the military. He was in the middle of describing this fishing trip he and his buds took last year where everything seemed to go wrong when I conked out. Next thing I knew it was the early morning, I had been asleep for nine hours straight, and my cell phone was on the floor along with several of my pillows, a blanket, and my tv remote (I’m an active sleeper so waking up like this is a common thing for me). As thrilled as I was that I finally got some good sleep, I was disappointed that I missed out on the rest of his fishing story. Because I knew he was working today, I texted him this morning and expressed my gratitude and how I really wanted to hear the end of the story. And he said he would finish it. Tonight after work he wants to come over to check out my door locks, window locks, and my security system to make sure everything is in good condition in hopes that it’ll make me feel a little bit safer. He said he’ll finish the story as we eat the pizza that he’s bringing with him.

Today I had a few errands to run and with the bright blue skies, the awesome weather, and the fact that I finally feel like I’m adequately rested, I was in a really good mood. I was in the grocery store, standing in the cookie aisle and staring at all the packages of Oreos while wondering why Oreo stopped making their pumpkin spice cookies. They didn’t make them last year either and I loved them! Of course they had a ton of those stupid, limited edition maple ones. Don’t get me wrong, I love maple stuff. A maple creme stick is my favorite donut! And, of course, I did end up buying a bag of those maple Oreos. You know, for research purposes…. But how does Oreo not get that pumpkin spice season has become a holiday in and of itself? How does it make sense to make maple oreos but not pumpkin spice ones? I just don’t get it.

But anyway, I was in the cookie aisle when it hit me. If my cop friend was coming over to check out my window locks as well as my door locks and security that meant he was going to have to be in all of the rooms of my house. All I could think of in that moment was that I needed to clean my house! So, I grudgingly grabbed my bag of maple Oreos and power walked to the register. Now, I’m not a messy person. I’m really not. And I’m completely okay with my house looking like it’s lived in. Growing up, my mom kept our house pristine. Seriously, it was like walking through a museum where you were scared to touch or sit on anything. I vowed that I would never live like that. So, while I’m not exactly messy, I don’t really care that on any given day the pillows on my couch are out of place, that my cuddle blanket is unfolded and hanging over the one side, and my e-reader is tucked between the cushions.

But having said that, I didn’t exactly make my bed this morning (so pillows and blankets were still all over the place), my office was SO disorganized (partly because I’ve been so unproductive this week but mostly because it always looks that way), and my spare room where I paint has canvases, paints, and all sorts of artsy accoutrements cluttering it. Like I said, not messy but definitely lived in.

So I raced home from the store and tidied up a bit. Those rooms still look like they’re lived in but I feel a little more comfortable with him being in those rooms now that I’ve picked up a little. But I’m still nervous. I mean, he’s been in my house before so it shouldn’t feel like a big deal. I think it’s the idea of him being in the more personal areas of my house that are causing the butterflies in my stomach. I kind of feel like a young school girl who is talking to a boy for the very first time. It’s all so ridiculous.

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3:50 p.m. - 2020-09-20

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