So let it be written that I cannot sleep without Tyson.
I'm not the best sleeper even with him around but when he's gone I'm easily up until 2 or 3 in the morning even when I have to get up at 6:30 a.m. So if you are wondering why it looks like this was written in the middle of the night, it's because it was.
Ok, onward! I'm not sure what it is about blogging but I always feel the need to expose my shortcomings to the world via the internet. I guess I just have this compulsion to purge my soul through web confession. Plus I have a secret hope that I am not the only imperfect person in this world and my failings will make you all feel better about your own teeny tiny faults. C'mon, we all have them. Right?
So here goes.
The Spare Room.
I weep and wail and gnash my teeth for five minutes every time I walk in here because I know I'm going to have to clean it sometime and I usually step on something sharp along the way.
I tried to convince you all earlier that the laundry "room" was the worst in the house but it's not. This one is. We really do clean it a lot but since we don't go there very often it becomes a catch-all for everything that has no place else to go. But since Adam is coming over tomorrow I need a place for the air mattress. And I really hate leaving a messy house behind when I go on vacation or whatever it is I'll be doing for the next month and a half.
However, there were a couple obstacles I had to face when cleaning the room. Well first, look at it, just look at it! Ok, stop looking now, my hands are sweating with embarrassment. We've established that it is a nasty mess and I don't want to clean it. Done.
Next obstacle: Spider
I. Hate. Spiders. I really really hate spiders. They make me gag and I hate them. We never get spiders in the house but of course the second Tyson leaves they invade. I've already killed two and then when I finally muster up the gumption to clean this room there is another one on the ceiling. The only thing worse than killing a spider that's on the floor is killing one that's on the ceiling. There is so much chair balancing, and awkward stretching, and the risk of the spider attacking from above while you are in this vulnerable position. I'm pretty sure I would die if a spider jumped into my hair from the ceiling.
So folks, I got brave and let the spider live. Yes, I cleaned that dang room with a spider inside. Granted every time I walked in I hovered at the door until I spotted it so I could keep an eye on its spindly little body and avoid walking into its jumping range, but I faced my fear. And you know, by the end of it all I was greeting that spider at the door and calling it Sammy.
I think it has become clear to us all that I am not entirely sane when living alone.
End result: Good enough for me!
And now I'm off to bed... Maybe.