still tired after a night of sleep.

Yesterday highlighted to me that my life is kind of insane. After Tumnus and I went to bed at 6, I was like... awake. At 8:30. I got up, had water, lay back down, guzzled more water, went and talked to Erica around 10... you get the picture. I woke him up at 10:45 because I wanted to clean my room and do some homework and shower and stuff and not have him wake up and be like, what the fuck. But then he wasn't ready to wake up -- because he is a normal human being and also went to bed at 6 -- so I let him nap while I took a shower. Then when he left he kissed me goodbye and said I would hear from him soon. I was like, okay.

Anyway that's not the important part. The important part is the part about how I cleaned my apartment and tried to read my book on prescribing medicine for children with psychiatric disorders for my treatment class and drank coffee and before I knew it, it was 2:30 and time to go to Brooklyn to have my ass kicked. Chris did totally kick my ass yesterday, as he did on Thursday, but in a different way. Whereas Thursday was very emotional for him, yesterday he was just trying to fuck with me. Cute, but annoying, after a few hours. I took him to Barnes & Noble, or rather, he took me, and it was really crowded with parents and really small kids. Chris is like 10. He's a tall kid. And I am a short girl. He kept doing this thing -- until I caught on -- where he would break free of holding my hand and RUN, usually running into or over some person in the process.

The bathroom was the most ridiculous part. He needs my help in the bathroom. Were I to have a choice to take him anywhere, even though he is an older child, it would be the women's bathroom. Both times he needed to go, however, apparently it was such an emergency that he found it necessary to run breakneck (yes, I had a horse phase when I was a little girl) into the men's room and straight into a stall. Would this have been my choice of venue? Not really, but whatever. Fine, I'm mature enough to go into the men's room with you. I don't really give a fuck about what men look like when they're peeing. Anyway, so I am clearly with him, holding the door of the stall closed for him, and he has just started going number two. This middle-aged man walks in, gives me this horrified look, and I'm like, "Sorry, I'm babysitting and I have to help him." He's like, "That's quite alright," and turns around and goes and waits outside this bathroom that has an empty stall and two urinals. Someone apparently asks him why he's waiting or if there's a long line or something because I hear him respond, "There's a woman in there." 

At this point, I have figured out that Chris is going to be a while. We are going to be in this restroom for another 7 minutes, approximately. I say to the guy, "Look, he's going to be a while. There is no real sense in you waiting for him to be done. I don't know what you think is going to happen if you use the bathroom while I am here, but I would stop worrying about it and just go for it." The looks I got when I had to go into the stall and wipe this kid's ass were unbelievable. I hate men.

When I got home at 9 pm last night, I watched an episode of The Office, set my alarm for 8, and went straight to bed. I would have let myself totally sleep it off, but I have shit to do. The laundry's in the wash, the coffee's on, I have a bed to make, groceries to buy, laundry to later fold and hang up, huge amounts of homework to attempt, videos to drop off at Blockbuster... and I have a Best Buddies event with Gilda that is going to take up my entire afternoon.

I'm already tired again.