You know how I (by which I mean “parents”) can’t really handle staying awake past…oh, I don’t know, like three seconds after The Bachelor ends? Because there is a one hundred percent chance that very small people will be all MOM I WANT A MUFFIN at the butt crack of dawn?
Well, even when those small people aren’t technically there – and thus will not be waking you up – your body apparently can’t handle the idea of awakeness post-ten P.M. Or at least mine can’t. Very, very rarely (like on Valentine’s Day, for example) I will drag this ancient carcass of mine out until midnight, but let me promise you: I am not happy about it.
But I figured Miami would be a little different. Because, you know…it’s Miami. Miami is for staying awake. Dad and I spent one night at my friends Jeremy and Eric’s place before heading home, and my plan was to be a functional human being who could hang like an actual person and speak in actual sentences for the duration of the party they were throwing, and then ten o’clock rolled around and I fell asleep while sitting fully upright at the table. In front of people. So I went into the bedroom “just to lie down just for a second,” and:
Out.
Jeremy came in around 11:30 to see if I was okay and I was like mmmhmmm yep coming be there in one sec…
And I was totally lying, because the only thing that happened when he left was that I put on my pajamas.
And then twelve-thirty rolled around, and I started suspecting that perhaps a karaoke machine had come out, because “Sweet Caroline” was being inserted into my eardrum in defiance of the three pillows I had piled on top of my face, and I thought…
you know…
what the hell.
It’s Miami.
(I think the actual thought that went through my head was JESUS FINE I’M UP.)
And so the ancient carcass got dragged out of bed, and I rejoined the party. Did I change out of my pajamas or attend to my hair situation? Nope. Just went straight from bed to singing Beyonce, and then all of a sudden it was four o’clock in the morning and THAT is hanging, my friend.
In case you are curious, this is what I looked like when the night finally came to a close:
(Or at least that’s what the quarter of my face that I felt was acceptable for photography purposes looked like.)
But did the night end there? It did not. Because right before I finally went to sleep (for the second time) I thought of a very, very important thing that I absolutely HAD to remember the next morning, and so I decided to email myself a reminder. Except I was apparently so tired that my hands just put a hold on that whole “motion” thing. I remember this, by the way: looking at my hands and going “hmmm you are not working very well.” I also remember looking at the email before hitting “send” and thinking “huh, that’s not exactly right,” but figuring that whatever, I’d be able to parse it out in the morning.
That’s right. (It says 2:07 A.M. but the time setting on my computer is two hours off; this is a solid 4:07 thankyouverymuch.) Now, let me clarify that I had ingested a not-especially-grand quantity of wine on that evening, because I think that’s an important fact to note given the specific content of this email. Nope, my body was basically like SORRY KID GONNA SHUT THIS SHIT DOWN NOW.
So if you can parse this email for me, that’d be great, because otherwise this very important thing that was apparently soooo important that I sent an email to myself to remind me of it? Is not happening.
Like, ever.
And so I will end with the very, very critical lesson that I learned from this experience.
Always sybiokwuwA when your are toufhS.
Always.
(Sent from my iPhone w.)
