Hot Hot Hot

When the Thanksgiving relatives departed, they left behind a gift. Some might call it the gift of germs; others, the gift of sickness, but really it’s the Gift of Snore.

Adam has a sore throat and a snotmaker resting in the center of his face, and so far, I am merely producing snot at enviable rates, but really, this isn’t about the fact that we’re sick, it’s about the fact that we’re snoring to the point that we’re waking each other approximately once every 15 minutes, and between the neverending honking, horking and wild boar-worthy snoring, no one is sleeping. And I haven’t even covered the fact that our dog snorfs, snorts, and snores, and really, there is no bedroom sexier than ours right now.

This means that basically all we’ve done is lie about like bumps on pickles, a pile of Kleenex between us, our sad little unwashed sheets bringing us to tears. And yet… we cannot bring ourselves to wash them, because that would require getting out of the bed, which we can’t do, just no. The sheets shall fester as long as we can stay in them until we feel better, even if there is a pizza stain from the dinner we totally ate in it tonight, and I can’t believe I just admitted that.

Change of subject! Sort of!

Adam’s family does Hanukah at Thanksgiving, which meant that we were supposed to shop our faces off pre-Thanksgiving, in addition to hosty duties, although actually, we had to, but didn’t. It was a gift card Hanukah from us this year, and if that doesn’t scream Festival of Lights and Eternal Oil, Except Not Really Because It’s 80 Degrees and Also November, I don’t know what does. However, everyone else did not gift card us, which would have made me feel horribly guilty, if not for the fact that I got flannel pajamas, and if I’ve never mentioned it before, I love pajamas. There is no greater joy in this world than fresh pajamas, unless it’s fresh sheets, and since we all know there’s not a snowball’s chance in Death Valley that clean sheets will grace the snarf bed anytime soon, they are the next best thing. Except, did I mention it’s 80 degrees? And despite the fact that I keep trying to crank up the AC to resemble something close to November in the rest of the world, it is still 80 degrees, and in addition to producing vast amounts of snot, I am sweating enough to break liquid-producing records. I’m having trouble caring, however, because if I didn’t bring home the point earlier, fresh pajamas rock the pants off of anything else, even if they can’t be properly utilized due to excessive snoring, and also, blazing hot temperatures.

I hope sleepytime is going better in your part of the world and that you have fresh sheets AND pajamas and maybe even cool temperatures! oooh!

*The Cure

10 comments November 27th, 2006