That Damn Peter Fonda

Holy Hell, that damn Flower Power infomercial is back. Went on a teensy internet shopping binge tonight, so feeling a bit vulnerable -- I don't know how much longer I can continue to deny Peter ...

Go To Bed Already

A Time/Life infomercial has me seriously considering picking up the phone and purchasing my very own Flower Power CD set. It contains 175 unforgettable hits from the 60s. Just five easy payments of $29.95 each. And when I order with my credit card within the next five minutes I get a bonus CD, The Summer of Love. Plus, the first 500 callers will get FREE shipping and handling.

Damn, that Peter Fonda is good.

When Did 2 a.m. Become the New 11 p.m.?

As I sit here, barely able to pry my eyelids open, I can't help by ask myself, "when did four to five hours of sleep a night become the norm?"

My nightly routine is starting to catch up with me. After picking MP up from preschool, getting her fed, bathed and into bed, with a story or two in between, I begin work at my second job as a web content editor. By the time I wrap that up, it's anywhere between 10 and midnight.

I could sooo easily collapse into bed at this moment, but these hours are too precious to waste on sleep.

Instead, I stay up. I surf, write, watch deliciously vapid TV shows (can you say Nip/Tuck?), read, veg, whatever -- eventually hitting the sheets around 2 a.m. Six o'clock comes waaay too early, I wind up sleepwalking through the day, and although I know this isn't healthy, (I know this!) I continue the maddening routine.

I continue because I treasure my down-time. (Ironically, as I write this, it's 10 p.m. and MP is up asking for a snack.) I need it. It's my drug. I know this addiction of sorts isn't something exclusive to single moms - it comes with being a mother, period.

On a related note, I promised myself I would start working out again. Ugh. I missed my self-imposed start date of Feb. 1, so come Monday, I now expect to be squeezing gym visits into my day.

How, I have no idea...