I am in like.
It's that disgusting phase when you first meet someone and you can't get enough of them. You're excited every time they text, and you feel like you could talk to them for hours.
The problem here is that Bernie is an hour behind in Phoenix.
And Bernie doesn't have to be up for work in the morning. His daily agendas include things like hiking, rock climbing, canyoneering, or playing cards with Gram.
We text throughout the day, but it's like he has some sensor that goes off as soon as I get into bed: call or text Erin NOW.
And of course, I want to talk to him, so I stay up way too late.
I am a zombie.
Even my principal asked why I'm so tired lately.
And everyone who's lived or traveled with me knows, it is a BAD idea to mess with my sleep.
I can't take much more of this. Bernie's out in the Sups right now, hiking and camping. I figured he'd be out of cell phone range, giving me a few days' reprieve. Last night I slipped into my warm, soft, comfortable bed at 10:00 and thought, "This is gonna feel soooo good."
I laid there thinking about Tuolumne Meadows, drifting towards sleep.
And my phone rang.
And it wasn't just any phone call. He'd obviously been drinking, and when I asked (or actually, yelled), "What's all that noise???" the answer was, "Oh, that's just the chainsaw."
Oh. Dear. God.
I got off the phone as quickly as possible, but there were a few more phone calls. And texts. Because, you know, he missed me. And the beer made it very important that he express this to me.
And I miss him.
But I miss sleep, too.
It's that disgusting phase when you first meet someone and you can't get enough of them. You're excited every time they text, and you feel like you could talk to them for hours.
The problem here is that Bernie is an hour behind in Phoenix.
And Bernie doesn't have to be up for work in the morning. His daily agendas include things like hiking, rock climbing, canyoneering, or playing cards with Gram.
We text throughout the day, but it's like he has some sensor that goes off as soon as I get into bed: call or text Erin NOW.
And of course, I want to talk to him, so I stay up way too late.
I am a zombie.
Even my principal asked why I'm so tired lately.
And everyone who's lived or traveled with me knows, it is a BAD idea to mess with my sleep.
I can't take much more of this. Bernie's out in the Sups right now, hiking and camping. I figured he'd be out of cell phone range, giving me a few days' reprieve. Last night I slipped into my warm, soft, comfortable bed at 10:00 and thought, "This is gonna feel soooo good."
I laid there thinking about Tuolumne Meadows, drifting towards sleep.
And my phone rang.
And it wasn't just any phone call. He'd obviously been drinking, and when I asked (or actually, yelled), "What's all that noise???" the answer was, "Oh, that's just the chainsaw."
Oh. Dear. God.
I got off the phone as quickly as possible, but there were a few more phone calls. And texts. Because, you know, he missed me. And the beer made it very important that he express this to me.
And I miss him.
But I miss sleep, too.
Comments