Steve has a cold, which is all kinds of awesome, because it makes me the sole person on baby duty at night (gotta keep the kid as germ-free as possible!). I feel bad for Steve, of course, because he sounds pretty miserable when he's up coughing at 2am. But I feel bad for me, too, because I had to wake up to him coughing at 2am,*** then I had to wake up to hungry baby at 4:30am. By the time I fed her and got her back to sleep, it was about 5:10, and there didn't seem to be any point in going back to bed until 5:45. So I didn't. And now I'm kind of tired. And when I stood up at my desk earlier this morning, I tripped over my trash can and ran into the wall. I knew the can was there. It's in the same spot every day. It's not like it jumped out and surprised me. But it managed to take me down anyway. I'm a little clumsy on the best of days. But today? I don't stand a chance. I plan to stay far, far away from stairs and sharp objects. It just seems like a smart move.
Thank goodness I'm off tomorrow and have baby-free Saturday night plans to look forward to. I know it sounds crazy, but I may even stay up past 10pm.
I like living dangerously.
***I may have been a little snotty, with my suggestion that Steve take some medicine already...but it was 2am...and I was tired...and it didn't seem like it was going to stop anytime soon...and, ok, I know I should have been a little more sympathetic...and I really am sorry, honey. But next time? Take the medicine already!!
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