I wanted to sleep last night. I needed it. Instead, I tossed and turned and tried to get into my favorite position (on my stomach one leg straight and the other bent and horizontal with my hip), and then I flipped onto my back and stared at the dark ceiling. Soft sounds, haunting and full of alluded action, swirled around my ears. I’m manic, and I didn’t sleep. At 5:30, I tried to steal one more hour. D hit the snooze on the alarm and I managed to rest my brain for just a little bit, but I hung on that edge, just a half-breath away from the waking world. I should have run. Damnit.

It’s Monday. But I have wonderful plans for the evening. Anne (my BFF) and I are going to bellydancing with a lovely woman named Rebecca. This started with a drunken conversation at Red Light Red Light. When someone you adore text-messages you from a bar — always go! I don’t know what to expect, but at least I will be shaking my groove thang! Rebecca belly dances on a regular basis, and I could use the help with my mid-section.

My lunch break will also be filled with fun. I am going to Target. This is not exciting for most of you, but because I work at near the Souper - Target near Milennia, I can jaunt right over and pick up the needed supplies while circumventing the mad Xxxx-mas shoppers and their bulging carts. On my little trip I will pick up lunchy bits so that I can work late and not have to go out and get food for the rest of the week. Wh00t and stuff (that was not exactly enthusiastic).

I like parenthesis. I’m not sure why.

It’s off to swim in paperwork. I hope I don’t get a papercut.