So, for the last 3 nights, this has been my sleeping quarters:
TheManTheMyth is still a snotty turdy head and it is impossible to sleep in the same bed while he's wheezing, snoring, gurgling, coughing. So I've been sleeping on the sofa. Which I hate. The sofa, I mean. And sleeping on it. Because I hate it. And it's uncomfortable. Actually, I haven't exactly been SLEEPING; more like dozing because it's so uncomfortable, especially with a dog who insists on spooning even though there's not enough room.
Thing 2 graciously offered to let me sleep with her but I had to decline because she has a loft bed that is a mere 12" from the ceiling and there's no way I can sleep up there without smacking the ceiling every time I turned over and also because her room is like a tomb. She keeps it as dark as possible and refuses to allow fresh air to penetrate the darkness so it's dark, stuffy and smells of her hockey gear. I'd rather sleep on the concrete patio than sleep in her room. But thanks for the offer!
If I was a mean, selfish type of wife, I'd insist that Typhoid Mary sleep on the sofa and let me and Gracie Lou have the snuggle bed but being the kind, considerate wife that I am, I can make do on the Sofa From Hell. And remind him of my considerate thoughtfulness on a regular basis.
Ok, so yesterday was the Baja 1000 offroad race, which is a HUGE race, and several of our racing friends were, uh, racing in the motorcycle division. We spent most of yesterday glued to the internet looking for updates on our racing friends. Well last night, I had a dream that we were down there in Baja and in my dream, a kid named Justin ImHof, who was making his Baja debut on the Honda B Team, came up and was making gestures to his arm and everyone just stood there going, "Huh?" and he never said a word, just kept pointing to his arm. When nobody did anything, he sadly rode away. And in my dream, someone said, "What was that all about?" and I was all, "Duh, he was trying to tell us he broke his arm!"
As soon as I woke up this morning, I ran to the computer to get an update on the race and get this: the first thing I read was that Justin had crashed hard, was knocked unconscious and had also BROKE HIS ARM. Hand to God. Are you getting goosebumps because I sure as heck did.
Anyway, Justin was badly injured and is on his way home to the USA on a chartered plane. He's a really, really good kid, only 17 years old and a heckuva racer and if you have a minute, say a little prayer for him and his family.
And be in awe at my psychic powers. I know I am.