THINGS THAT HAPPENED THIS WEEKEND AND A HOW TO TELL IF YOU AREN’T GETTING ENOUGH SLEEP.

(If you don’t care about my life, and I don't blame you if you don't, skip the first two paragraphs and go to "How to tell If you Aren't Getting Enough Sleep)

Well my weekend turned out to contain everything I thought it would times ten. In accordance with Sharpie Doodles tradition, I won’t bore you with details that you don’t care about but instead give you the broad strokes: I got some things straightened out and reestablished an important friendship, I watched Smokey the Bear watch a forest fire, I drove through hail in a soft top jeep, I shared a chocolate brownie cake thingy with two lovely ladies on Pi Day, I sent an e-mail to a woman in Brazil whom I’ve never met before, and six separate people told me I needed a new pair of cowboy boots.

So let me just address this issue right now: I’m not getting a new pair of cowboy boots. I like the pair that I have. They fit me. They are scuffed. They are scratched. They are wearing a bit thin. Some might say a little too thin…a sentiment I’ll grudgingly agree with. But these boots are special. They are my year in review. They have been worn down as I’ve been built up. They are reminders of my family in Texas, my time in Savannah, my move to Atlanta, the rebuilding of Andrew Marshall. These boots have the dust and muck and soil of three amazing cities ingrained into their worn leather and paper thin soles, even the money I bought them with has special significance, and they ain’t going anywhere until they fall off of my feet. If that means I have to use gaffers tape to keep them together…so be it. (It’s kind of a specialty of mine…I’ve become fairly adept at keeping things from falling apart using cable ties, twisties, and gaffers tape. Mostly it’s a skill built up from years of owning terrible cars and being very poor.)

So. Anyway. On to the actual post.

WAYS TO TELL THAT YOU AREN’T GETTING ENOUGH SLEEP

Numbah Ones: Your toothbrush is still wet from the night before.

Numbah Twos: In a similar vein…you can still taste your toothpaste from the night before.

Numbah Threes: Eye goo and crusties do not have time to accumulate.

Numbah Fours: You starting making lists entitled “Ways to Tell That You Aren’t Getting Enough Sleep”.

Numbah Fives: Co-workers begin to assume that A: there has been a death in your family, B: You’ve started taking drugs C: Aliens have taken over your brain or D: All of the above.

Numbah Sixes: You find the intentional misspelling of the word “number” to be the height of Swiftian witticism.

Numbah Sevens: All of your fantasies begin to involve a tribe of beautiful young Amazons capturing you while on a safari in Africa, taking you back to their village, throwing you down on a huge, soft, king sized bed, tucking you in gently, kissing you on the forehead, and singing lullabies to you as you drift slowly into slumber.

Numbah Eights: You begin repeating yourself.

Numbah Eights: You begin repeating yourself.

Numbah Eights: You begin repeating yourself.

Numbah Nines: You wake up one morning and realize that you were getting more nighttime snooze when you unloaded trucks at Target OVERNIGHT.

Numbah Tens: You know there MUST be ten ways to tell that you aren’t getting enough sleep, but you just can’t think of number ten, so you resort to cheap tricks to fill the slot.

--A--