Stayed Up

When I come home from parties, there's no one to greet me.
I climb up the stairs, I strip to underwear, I brush my teeth for longer than might be necessary. It feels so good.
I get to sleep however I want in my bed big enough for two. Sometimes I put my head at the feet. I can journal at night--or not. I can blog. I can hum exactly one verse of "How to Save a Life" that has been stupidly stuck in my head.

I have no backrubs to give, no decompressions to share. I leave the small pile of clothes on the floor. I sleep immediately when I want to, no pawing or jabbering half-awake.

And I would have stayed up with you all night
had I known how to save a life.

Keeping Clean

1. I just re-read last night's post (that karate chopping of keys I did as my eyes were closing) and I was a lot sloppier and more tired than I apparently thought. Sorry for the opinionated, poorly-constructed garble.

2. On Thursday, Pookie, LC, and I went to the midnight Scream 4 opening. We obviously all had late nights, but Pookie had to get up super super early for a special work project. She accidentally missed her alarm and made it to work just in time--but of course without any glamour of morning ritual.


Right after the movie got out. She's still a tad scared.

"I brushed my teeth with Junior Mints this morning. I didn't have time to go to the bathroom, but then I was driving and saw the box laying out from last night and was like, 'Well...'"