The definition of goofy stuff!

I really hate it when I can’t get my goofy brain to shut down long enough to get to sleep. Especially when it’s 2:00 a.m. and I’m “too pooped to pop.” Somebody used to say that when I was a kid. Can’t remember who. Pity. Maybe trying to remember who said it will make me sleepy.

Maybe not.

What is it that makes a brain think about goofy stuff when it should be winding down, shutting off, lights out, nobody home, go away, come back tomorrow? I don’t know but I learned a long time ago to just go with it and try to do something constructive til I get sleepy enough to actually, you know, sleep.

I usually read my book but I finished it this morning and I don’t really want to start another one because, if I do, I’ll get caught up in the story and stay awake even longer. And then I’ll be too pooped to get my patio cleaned up tomorrow. It’s a real mess and, well actually, it’s an embarrassing mess and I’m surprised one of the busybodies from the condo board hasn’t already sent me a letter telling me that I’m violating some sacrosanct rule from on high. Oh yeah, and that it’s also a disgrace to the community.

I put a bench on my carport a few years ago and got a letter because we’re not allowed to put anything on the carport except vehicles that are in operating condition. Also, I made a neat bird house plaque for my unit numbers once and got a letter telling me that it didn’t conform and that I had to take it down. Being the trouble-maker that I am, I walked around the complex and saw no less than 5 different kinds of unit numbers so I wrote back and let them know about that. They (the all-powerful condo board) sent a notice to all condo owners specifying the exact kind of numbers we were supposed to have. By the time they got around to doing that, though, I’d already taken my neat bird house numbers down and put the old numbers back up.  Funnily enough, my old numbers didn’t conform to the policy. What did I do? I let them puppies stay right where they were … and they are still there.

As a general rule, I’m okay with having rules. Rules are mostly good. They help stave off chaos. But, some rules are just made to be broken.

In fact, I think when I finish my patio clean-up tomorrow (or, I guess it’ll be today) I’ll put my bench on my carport — right up next to the fence that separates it from my patio. I might even put a plant on it and sit my rusted-tin cat sculpture right next to it!

Ya-a-a-wn …

I think I can go to sleep now.


PS: Goofy stuff — going outside at 2:00 am in your pyjamas when it’s 40 degrees to take a pic of your house numbers … and the cat.

z-z-z-z-z …