note to self

Hey you - err, me (internal me, guts and stuff)

What is your problem? Why are you not letting me sleep. This is ridiculous, I've had caffeine like 10 hours ago, I should be able to move past the effects, but no, you have seemed to develop this horrible anti-resistance to caffeine. Remember those two little people I gave birth to, (oh yeah) that means I'm a mom. Therefore, it's my God given right to wear my robe, have my hair in rollers, have my eyes half open and hold in my hand, sipping *almost* happily, a cup of joe, you've heard of it, you know, coffee!

I'm tired of laying in bed with my own version of a nervous tummy. I swear, if you make me forget about giving my children their medicine before bedtime yet again, I'll social service your butt. Obviously the effects of not sleeping are taking it's toil, I think you are even starting to make me hallucinate.

is this a gorilla playing an accordion?a flying upside-down angel food cake?

a really tall woman in a really bad outfit?

okay, are those bikers sitting on bar stools, pedaling and drinking at the same time? (Pretty sure there's a minor or a really short person in the back seat there too).

A voice starts to retaliate to my complaints, it's my subconscious.

Subconscious: but mmm, beer, you like beer and biking too. What a great idea.

a larger-than-life Big Mac?

Subconscious: now, I know you like a good big ol' greasy Big Mac after drinking. You've posted enough about McDonald's to earn royalties.

One, really huge Salvation Army bucket?

Subconscious: we both know how you can't handle your beer. Aim your night of beer-on-a-bike, Big-Mac munchies throw up in here. Can't handle 'the caffeine', huh?