When Sleep Ceases...

What to write about? It’s a Wednesday morning and it’s business as usual in Los Angeles, only the sun is shining its lovely rays this week, it’s now February and 2008 is well on its way…

*Yawn* I didn’t sleep well last night. I should have suspected; after four delicious, satisfying nights of solid coma-like sleep, I should have known I’d gotten spoiled. The Sleep Gods would never allow that! They like having their Joanna a bit of an insomniac. It keeps me on the crazy side, brings out my inner Goof, makes my eyes tear up when I laugh at every little black and white number on a spreadsheet when the clock hits 3 at work. My one co-worker seems to especially enjoy this, I know he does.

“Joanna, do you have the giggles?”
“No…” *snort!* *Giggle!*
“Joanna, what are you giggling about?”
“I don’t knoooooow.” *Giggle*
“You’re happy, aren’t you, Joanna?”
“Maaaaaybeeeeee…” *Giggle*

When this conversation occurs…oh, every other day, I start to feel like my dog, Walter, the most human golden ever to roam this earth. Now I have a sense of what he must be feeling when we talk to him.

“Hi, Walter.”
Hi, again.
“Oh, Wally, you’re SUCH a good boy! You’re a GOOOOOOD boy, aren’t you?”
I guess so. Walter rolls his eyes.
“GOOOOOD boy!”
Didn’t you just say that?
“I love you so much, Walter! You’re SUCH a good boy!”
You’re making me want to piss on the rug.
“Want to play a game, boy? Here’s a ball! Yeah!”
I’m going to bite you in the ass.

This likeness to Walter concerns me since my brother frequently compares me to the dog, especially since Wally and I share the golden hair and everyone else in the family is dark. I shake this one off. (Wait…SHAKE it off?) It doesn’t get really bad until the occasional Sunday when I’m lounging on my parents’ couch and Brother walks in the room and throws a toy and then looks at me, expectantly, with eager eyes like, “C’mon girl, you can do it!” I won’t get completely paranoid about this until I find mini milk bones in my stocking come Christmas.

I’ve had a life this last week, since I’ve last updated my blog, I swear. I’m just too tired to write about it. That Flavia machine at work and I have been getting super close this week. I’ve had many awkward kitchen encounters that I could write about. Kitchen show-downs, more like it! The kind where I have to fight for fridge space! Become Queen of Froth! Use my ass a protective barrier!

I went to see Wicked last week with my roommate. She’s become my regular date. And I was in Arizona this past weekend at the FBR Open. If you saw pictures of an obnoxious drunk blond at the 16th hole, her mouth open while mouthing the words “CHUG IT!” that might have been me.

I took a picture at that 16th hole….it was an image I won’t soon forget. It was a picture of a toe, the ugliest toe I’ve ever seen in my life! It was a witch’s claw-toe, I just know it! Said toe made my friends and I tremble. These are the things nightmares are made of. I could tell you about it, but I won’t, I just can’t.