Night Work

There is a strange effect on my ability to be grateful when I don’t get enough sleep. I love sleeping and know that I need a good 8 hours to get through my busy days without snapping at someone or droping things. Yes, I am clumsier when sleepy. Sometimes, I ignore this need to sleep and think I can catch up the next day or muscle through my day. This poor decision resulted in an embarrassing event for me.

I stayed up after everyone had gone to sleep to write the other night after a previous night of poor sleep. I thought that the quiet darkness would enable me to concentrate on creating a better term paper. I wasn’t under any time restrictions to complete it yet but nervous me was already anxious about writing a masterpiece. Up to this point, I had been able to write my papers while the kids were at school and there were two weeks of school left before it had to be submitted for reading.

The problem with working at night is the dark. I keep a clean house and while the children get ready for bed, I pick up and put away the things they played with that night. Steve is usually busy watching TV and I don’t like to get caught up in a show I won’t be able to finish. Plus, I think he likes this time by himself. Being with people at work is probably hard; I am the one who can’t wait to see everyone return every day to hear about their exploits.

While I was picking up our Lego structure on the kitchenette, Daisy called out to me and interrupted my checking for fallen pieces. Once I got Daisy situated with the pink ruffly nightgown she wanted to wear, there was her hair to comb out and a special book to find for reading. After the kids were settled in bed and I returned to the living room, Steve had made me a cocktail and I sat down with him on the sofa to watch TV.

After everyone was sleeping and my mind started to wander back to my paper, I could not resist the temptation to write down a brilliant idea. As I got to the kitchenette with my notebook, I found my bare foot engaged with a errant Lego that was on the floor. I quietly swore and put pressure on the other foot, which also found a piece. More swearing happened and I fell back onto the floor on my backside, loudly. As I sat there mumbling to myself, I heard voices approaching quickly. The faces of three scared people appeared in the doorway and one of them was holding a bat. Utter embarrassment. The giggling started at that point. When they recovered their senses, my family helped me up and I limped off to bed rubbing my poor sore butt. By the time we reached the bedroom, I remembered to have Steve take the bat away from Daisy.

The next morning, I had a gigantic black and blue bruise forming and decided to give up sitting. Aspirin was my helper that day and the only way to fall asleep and stay asleep that night. Needless to say, I have changed one of my habits. Now the kids clean up their own toys before bath time. It makes us stop playing 15 minutes sooner but it builds good character. And keeps the Legos from hurting anyone along the way.

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