Soy un Perdedor

I have so many things to say. And do. And draw. And paint.

And yet.

I'm down to one diet coke a day, and the lack of caffeine is painful...especially right after lunch, when my brain shuts down and I spend the next couple of hours pleading with it to stay awake...just a little while longer...

And then I take a nap. And there may be a little drool involved.

My Mama Dee used to take "half-a-naps." She'd lie down on the couch, having just scrubbed the kitchen floor, close her eyes for 15 minutes and then pop up refreshed and ready to tackle weeding the back garden or cooking supper for 30 people. "I'm gonna go take a half-a-nap, Diahn. Y'all stay inside until I'm up," she'd say.

My naps are not half-a-naps. They are full-a-naps. There's dreaming involved. And the aforementioned drooling. And they are longer than 15 minutes. By a lot.

I'm just thankful my boys know how to entertain themselves. I keep waiting for the day when I wake up with a sharpie marker moustache, and their lives end as they know them. It could get ugly.

I hope that when my withdrawal period is over, I'll be back to my usual antics. I have many literary birds to stack up, people.