Rubbish

Today I pretty much talked on the phone all day. I feel bad, in addition to grossing all my "blogger" friends out. I am base, very base.

But---on the bright side---as I was making dinner with the daughter, she told me freely that I am her "inspiration" and said, "I will only tell you where I got that from if you let me have a sip of your wine." Like mother like daughter.

I forgot to tell Susie that I don't watch movies when I iron because I can't watch two things at once. I am a sad sort of multi-tasker. I would burn a shirt or burn myself. So I talk on the phone. That works well for me. Can you tell I really lack friends? I bother all my friends in Idaho or elsewhere with my phone calls. Lately I have been bothering Americanspark, who then tells me I am crazy for ironing shirts and not getting them professionally done---she does---and she also gives the cleaners so much work apparently they give her a large tin of danish cookies for Christmas?! That's kind of a good deal. I always feel like I am putting them all out. All around here the cleaners are all Asian and they don't really speak English very well. There is always a stern man who mans the cash register and a jovial lady who just nods her head like she knows what you are talking about with a needle, thread, and a pair of pants in her hands. I try to be so thankful when I drop a pair of pants off to get hemmed (I don't do that well either).
"Oh, thank you, thank you," I will say.

Then they say something like, "Ya!!!" really loud with no smile, or they just nod a head with a grimace. I always feel like I am intruding. I think even once a hand was waved in the air as if to say, "get out already, weird lady." I can tell they don't understand what I am saying. I will tell you though, it is the best place to go because no one can hem pants like they do at my cleaners.

The potty training deal at night is not working out so well. Since I have lacked sleep it is messing with my head so therefore I decided to wait until the girl is six and then I will get her an alarm. Can you imagine sleeping so soundly with a full bladder and then some horrendous alarm sounds and scares the crud out of you in the middle of the night? I don't look forward to that. I have done a little tad of research and apparently the alarm is loud enough to wake a parent. Lovely. I hope it would take care of the whole thing in a jiffy. I don't do well with little sleep. In fact, I become an animal. Even my children would NEVER wake me in the morning because of what would happen if I were to be stirred awake unnaturally.

I used to tell Dear Sir back in the day when we were dating that I ran "well on little sleep". What a lie. Maybe then I did because I ate little to nothing because I was infatuated and nervous and survived on nerves. It is interesting what you will do and say when you are in the first stages of love.