First off, I had full intentions of getting up before 9am this morning. Why? Because I have guilt that I sleep so late in the morning. But then I woke up at 4:45am this morning, as I was having a two-part dream. The one part was the good part -- I was learning this new painting technique that I wanted to use on decorations around my home. It was a cross between stamping and spray-painting; quite odd. But the other half of my dream had to do with dead bodies.
Maybe I should quit watching my forensic science shows right before bed.
The weird thing is I was dreaming these two disparate dreams at the same time. It was like one side of my brain was learning the new painting technique, and the other side of my brain was stuck in some sort of sick CSI episode.
It took me a while to wake up fully. I had to fight my way back to consciousness so that I could finally stop dreaming about dead and decomposing bodies and throats being slit and all kinds of gory stuff like that. Once fully awake, all I needed to do was think of something else. Easier said than done, but apparently I achieved it because I know I fell back asleep.
As a result, it was 8:50am by the time my alarm penetrated my consciousness. It'd been going off for an hour by this time. My radio is tuned to classical music, which is why I could sleep so long through my alarm.
First message of the day: Maybe I'm just meant to sleep in till 9am.
Then I got up, did my computer puttering, and fed the baby. She's a huge fan of Cheerios, so she had that for breakfast. She ended up spilling her milk (we gave up on sippy cups about a month ago) all over her booster seat, but it wasn't a big deal since the cover is easily washed. I had to take her entire booster seat off the chair and wipe underneath it, as the milk had migrated, which also meant I was wiping a ton of crumbs onto the floor. I already knew I had to sweep and mop the floor, so it wasn't a problem. I'd just do it later.
So I make my coffee, sit and read a magazine for a bit, and enjoy my coffee. Finally it was time for a refill. I grabbed the creamer (I can't drink coffee black; now I just use flavored creamer in my coffee) out of the fridge and gave it a quick shake.
That's when I realized when I had added creamer to my mug earlier that morning, I hadn't put the lid down. I now had Hershey's Chocolate Caramel creamer all over the kitchen. I probably even got it all over Grace because she was watching me throughout all of this.
Second message of the day: Maybe I should can-x refilling my coffee mug and stick with just the one cup.
I rolled my eyes at the mess that I made and went to put the creamer back into the fridge. It goes on the top shelf of the door shelves. We already know that my fridge is designed terribly badly, and apparently the weight of the creamer was just enough to send the top shelf crashing down on the shelf below it. Fortunately instead of causing all the shelves to come crashing down and thereby breaking most of the items (the price you pay for having tile floors), the creamer was the only thing to land on the floor.
But when it landed, the little lid popped off and the bottle came to rest on its side. I was just frozen in place by these developments, and as I simply stood there, half the creamer leaked out of the bottle. This is no small bottle of creamer; it's the big-daddy 32oz bottle.
Once I realized what had happened, that I had seriously compounded the mess I'd already made, I began to cuss like a sailor. Quietly and under my breath, but still rather foul language. I cleaned up most of the puddle of creamer on the floor, still gently cussing, and went to go get dressed.
Yes, all of this happened while I was still in my jammies.
Third message of the day: Do not procrastinate mopping one's floor.
So now I am dressed, my floor is washed, my house smells like my orange cleaner, and my coffee's gone cold. Not bad for a Sunday morning.