Finally fell asleep at two in the morning. Woke up at 7:30, after tossing and turning for an hour. Even Tylenol PM hadn't helped much.
When this is all over...one short week from now...there's so much I want to do.
When it's over, actually having clean laundry would be a nice thing. The dirty laundry in our closet looks like a mountain.
When it's over, actually paying bills will be a nice thing. I have a pile of receipts stretching back two months that I need to enter, and I haven't balanced my checkbooks since February.
Speaking of which, when it's over, I switch banks, which means I won't have to balance. Take it from me, friends: Citizens Bank SUCKS! The customer service is absolutely appalling. It used to be good, but now it just cares about feeing you to death.
When it's over, I will actually take out a pad and write down coherent thoughts. And tell stories again. And spend my Tuesdays and Thursdays relaxing and reading and walking and snuggling with Corb on the couch.
When it's over, I'll have a new couch that will have a story attached to it, and I can't wait to stretch out on it, watching TV.
When it's over, I will actually get some sleep.
But for now, I wait for next Friday, opening night. For the thrill of the applause and the excitement that comes from a job well done. And I wait on pins and needles for all the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that we will somehow manage to wade through in the next weeks and a half.
Somehow.
