My lips are chapped...

I hate going to bed at 8.
There. I said it.

I'm sorry but getting up at bloody 4 in the morning and doing stuff before the sun is awake when I could just snuggle up in bed and vacuum the silly carpet at 8 instead, is just not something I can easily motivate myself to do. It's a darn good thing Mark's starting a new position at goDaddy at the end of the month that'll be on a more "regular" schedule cuz this is getting obnoxious. He tried many times to convince me to just adjust to the sleep cycle he was on but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I love sleep too much. Does that make me a terrible person? Choosing sleep over adjusting with my husband?
Maybe it would if he didn't change schedules every couple months or so.
And I don't adjust well!
I hate change!
/angst

I'm sitting here (in a wheelchair) (though there's no legitimate need for the wheelchair, we're just short on normal chairs) resting chin in palm and trying to dredge up an interesting story...
I fail at cooking fancy dinners. But mac'n'cheese and ramen are good to go! What a wonderful housewife I'm turning out to be. We discovered this yesterday when I attempted to make a pretty simple recipe if you ask me. I was none too pleased. Threw away most of it.
But I did make some yummy snackage for the Arbonne party I hosted just this evening. That went well. Of course, my mom and sister were the bulk of attendance but what the hey.
My face feels super smooth and moisturized. Mmmmm, sooooft. Mark doesn't have the capacity to appreciate it. Sadness.
Ah! Joy is restored, I remembered something halfway entertaining. I got up a little over an hour ago because I was lying there in bed tossing and turning, wide awake. I knew the more I moved the less Mark would sleep and that was only confirmed by his eerie moaning and sigh-singing and random mumbling in tongues. He never talks in his sleep. Not extended sentences and seemingly coherent attempts to communicate. I swear he lifted his head off his pillow, tilted his face towards me and said,
"Hmmarg ler drendelen smoof?"

I thought maybe he was actually awake and I just misheard him and I debated trying to ask, "What??" but then I figured I'd let him repeat himself and try harder to ask whatever it was he needed if he was really awake. But he remained silent. So I smiled and giggled inwardly and lay there for a time.
And then he startled me by flipping over and talking out loud some more. I paid close attention this time and it was definitely not English coming out of his mouth.
("It's like he's trying to speak to me, I know it!!")
And then he reaches out and pulls me close with his left arm and cradles my forehead with his right hand, awkwardly angled up over my shoulder. It was everything I could do to not shake the bed with silent laughter. In all honesty his warm, heavy arm was comforting wrapped around my torso and I tried once again to sleep but then I started getting those restless itches everywhere and I had to get up. After a moment or two of assessment I determined there was no way of untangling my body without semi-waking the poor fellow so I moved to make it as quick a separation as possible.
But he grabbed on tighter.
I hesitated a moment but pulled away and slipped out and he rolled over, sighing. I hope he's deep in sleep now.

But anyway, I'm a little groggy now so maybe I'll have better luck (I'm also spelling things in quite the bizarre fashion and capitalizing completely random things. Like the previous 'maybe'. I tried to capitalize that.). In any case, back to warm comfy bed with my best friend forever :)