Isn't It Just...

I fell asleep last night around 11ish which is just about a record of an hour for me to make it to these days. Ever since Taylor and I began living and dating in the same state after months of doing the whole dumb dating long distance thing, and then now being involved in the whole marriage activity of things, my body forgot how to stay up late. It's like it suddenly started realizing that it didn't need to try and be social by going to annoying single parties that no one really wants to be at anyways. No longer did it have to pretend it wanted to be places, staying up past obscene kinds of hours when it really would have rather been sleeping. My body decided that after a good 10 years of trying to make good first impressions, being pleasant, laughing at jokes that really weren't that funny and going to outing after outing when it really would have rather been curled up next to a lovely movie with a bowl of popcorn in one hand and 32 oz. drink filled with Dr. Pepper goodness in the other, that it had had enough. And really, who could blame it? Because the heart wants what the heart wants. 
That said, let it be known that my current bedtime has now become anywhere between the 9 and 10 o'clock hour. I'm somewhat of a grandma and I am actually surprisingly okay with it.

Anyway, sleeping at 11. Sure.

Oh but let me back up to before the sleeping occurred to the part where I was watching the movie Coraline. And have you ever seen it? Because I should say that if you haven't, you should never. It's the worst, not to mention awfully scary. I'm somewhat of huge baby when it comes to scary things though. I can't even watch the series Lost by myself. So after that stupid movie of Coraline, I told Taylor there were probably all kinds of robbers in the house now. I heard my phone go off downstairs and I asked him to go get it because downstairs was dark, and terrifying and I would be alone and no thank you. So he went downstairs and when he came back up he turned on the bedroom light. It was only then that I could gain the courage to get out of bed and take a toothbrush to my kernel filled mouth (because of course there was popcorn involved). And then when I came back, I climbed in bed but told him that I wasn't turning off the light because there was likely to be someone or something under our bed who was already plotting to grab my ankles on the way back. "So is he there now?" Taylor asked. "I don't know! But if he's not now, he will be as soon as the light's turned off!" My fear is irrational, I mean I recognize this, but it's out of my hands really. Tangent: One time when I was little, my brother knew I was scared of the dark and he wasn't especially fond of me in our younger years for reasons I don't really understand because, well, I was darling. And on his way out of my bedroom one night, he turned the light off leaving me terrified as I sat on my bed trying to find the courage within me to get up and turn the light on. I must have sat there for a good 15 minutes trying to talk myself into getting the heck outta there. I kept doing that whole body moving thing that people do when they're about to take off for a race, but the courage just kept not coming. Until finally it did and I bolted out of that room like no one's ever seen, my heart racing, and thankfully I made it out alive. It was quite traumatic I tell you. End of Tangent.

Well so, Taylor wasn't tired and I was but I was not about to let him leave me in the dark before I fell asleep so he stayed and soon enough I was sleeping soundly. Some time later he came in and while typically a bomb could go off during my slumber and I wouldn't even flinch, I somehow woke up when he climbed into bed. It was then that I told him he smelled like graham crackers. I'm not really sure why. Maybe it had something to do with a dream I was having but that graham smell, it was there. You know the one. He asked me if I knew what I was saying and I was all, "Uhh yeah, you smell like graham crackers." Then he asked if I was sleep talking and I was like, "No, I know what I'm saying and you smell like them." And then I rolled over and fell back asleep.

Then this morning I woke up to him serenading Justin Bieber to me. Except that he wasn't really singing the lyrics he was just kind of talking them which always makes it more romantic. But mostly he just kept repeating "Baby, baby, baby, ohhhhh" because he didn't know the rest of the words.

And then he left for work and I got this insatiable craving for carrot juice. And wouldn't you know that I was in luck because we had carrots and we were only lacking the juicer which, you know, actually turns the carrots into juice. But we did have a blender and I figured that must work just as well. So I started peeling my carrots, cutting them in half and then putting them into that blender that would soon make all of my dreams come true. It was then that I realized it needed some liquid in order to uhh liquify, and suddenly I remembered this one time when Taylor made me an Orange Julius and added half and half and it was really quite good, so I thought rather than boring old water, why not spice it up with some half and half?...with carrots only. and two ice cubes. right.

As it was blending I started to worry because it looked really pretty sick. And then I tasted it and let's just say, I was right to worry.

This bears no relevance to the post, but this thing is stationed down the street from my house and someone had to do it.