It's three o'clock in the morning. . .

November 27, 2011


Saturday morning.

3.30 am and I'm in the kitchen making coffee, feeding the dogs, coffee creaming the cats.

3.30 in the frickin' morning!

Stephen's snoring in our room like a fleet of freight trains and no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't turn my brain off, or my ears, so I just got up.

Why not?

Who needs sleep?









Mer had yesterday afternoon off.

And she needed a winter coat.

Stephen and I had already decided that one of her gifts from us would be a new winter coat, but I am not stupid enough to think that I'd be in any position to select something she'd like, wear and otherwise be pleased with.

Hence I found myself in the mall, on a Saturday afternoon, less than month before Christmas.

Oh yeah.

And it was bad.

As soon as we pulled into the parking lot, I knew that this was not going to be one of those easy peasy trips.

Not a parking spot available, and when there was, and we signaled for it, someone swooped in from the side and snagged it.

So much for the Christmas spirit.

Eventually, we find a place and head into the mall.

First stop: fuelling up.

Starbucks line up all the way back to the magazine racks, and I don't care.

I was standing there for as long as it took to get my venti mild.

If I had to negotiate and maneuver my way through the mall on a pre-Christmas Saturday afternoon than at the very least I needed caffeine coursing through my veins.

Especially given the negative correlation between Christmas shopping and Christmas spirit.

Now, Mer and I don't have the best shopping experiences.

Temper tantrums where she throws herself full body onto the floor of the shoe section at Sears, arms and legs kicking, screaming. . . .

Nonetheless, she needed a coat, she wasn't working, I wasn't teaching so it seemed as if this was the time that we would be able to get through the mall without incident.

And we did.

No one cried.

No one stomped away in anger and frustration over not being heard.

We only had to go into three stores.

And when she found what she wanted it was on sale, and she had another 20% taken off.

Calculating the difference in what we budgeted and what we spent she then asked if the difference could go towards groceries.

So Saturday evening after dining on pizza while visiting Mum, I then went grocery shopping with Mer.

Who, again, stayed with in her budget.

And me. . . .well let's just say when toilet paper is on sale, the budget goes out the window.

Stephen is all about stockpiling the tp and all I've heard recently is how low the stockpile is getting.









Sunday was an interesting day.

A combination of planned events, like hosting Quaker meeting at our house and then attending a surprise party for our friends.

And then the strangest thing happened.

After the surprise party we returned home, I sat down on the couch, only after changing into my comfy clothes, and then I did. . . . .

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

I sat on the couch and watched episodes of Sister Wives and then back to back episodes of Big Bang Theory and then we went to bed.

Absolutely nothing.

The fact that I did nothing is still astounding to me.

I can't remember the last time I had done nothing.

And didn't want to do anything.

Didn't feel motivated to get up, get moving, and do stuff.

There was plenty of stuff to do, I just didn't want to do any of it.

So I didn't.

I laid on the couch, cell phone in hand to watch episodes of Simon's Cat, troll around on Facebook and watch television.

Salacious debauchery.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. . . . . . . . .









I am almost certain that later this week I'll kick myself in the arse for doing nothing.

When I'm marking, or up at 5.00 am coding data, planning final exams, looking through my daytimer at the list of meetings I am scheduled to attend.

Or Wednesday evening when I'm at the nursing home for the Annual Handbell Choir Performance.

But right now I am so basking in the glow of doing nothingness that ended an otherwise hectic and crazy weekend.

Basking, basking until 1.00 pm when the students start lining up outside the door, carrying with them their end-of-term panic like a monkey on their back.

Better ask Stephen to bring me a box of Kleenex.

I have a feeling I'm gonna need it.

But not until 1.oo pm.




Title Lyric: Three O'Clock by the Andrews Sisters