I swear it…all the best things come to me after I take my night time meds, turn off the light, and get settled into bed. So many things I could write about that would tickle the fancy of folks other than just me, or at least I think it would. Problem being, I forget by the time I can get mobile enough to write it down on some scratch paper on my nightstand.
Apparently my sleep self agreed with this assertion. Unfortunately, my sleep self has horrible handwriting. I woke up with scribbling all over my arm which could possibly be a message from beyond. Or just the ramblings of an overtired mind. My sleep self also has a sense of humor. Instead of picking the blue inked pen on my nightstand, the ink of choice was a reddish pink ink from the gel pen options next to my adult coloring books. My first thought was that my sleep self was having a rough time and scratching hieroglyphics into my skin. That or the dog got creative in her quest to exact revenge for the haircut forced upon her earlier this week. Thankfully this isn’t the case. I’d have far more ‘splaining to do if it was. (The hubby isn’t super excited about me playing “etch a sketch” on my skin, and Mole’ would have some serious ‘splaining to do if she had the fine motor skills of a preschooler).
Now to figure out what the hell I was trying to say.