So last night I was attempting to prepare for a small grocery trip for the second night in a row…procrastinating…I hate grocery shopping, can you tell?
Mikey got home and told me were heading off to our buddies Jeff and Stephanie’s for a cookout and Fantasy football drafting. (I don’t know anything about all that, but I had a BLAST playing with the baby and spending time with Steph!) We got home around 10:30ish. Really fun.
I went to bed around 11:45, which is actually earlier than normal. My alarm went off at 6:30, and somehow I managed to turn it off, put my fuzzy robe on, find the couch and sleep till 8:05 without my even knowing any of it.
(I haven’t done this since before I had Avery. Do NOT tell me we’re going here again.)
Of course I’m later than hell, running around like a crazed banshee. Par for the course when you’re a sleepaholic narcoleptic.
As Mikey and I are preparing to leave the house, Mikey says, #@#$@&!!!
I say what?
He says “I locked my keys in my truck.”
Me: Where’s your spare?
Him: In the truck.
?!?!?
What a day already.
