I suffer from sporadic-episodal-insomnia. Or, every once in awhile, I can't sleep for about one to two hours. Last night was such a night. Charlotte slept in our room in the pack and play (a necessity when Caroline is your sister and delights in throwing books, clothes, and toys in your crib while you are trying to sleep) and cried out in her sleep, which woke me from mine. That's when the epsiode began. I ran through my day, planned the next day, wrote a talk for sacrament meeting that I don't need, wrote this blog (all mentally. I wasn't actually up writing, although that can and does happen), and thought about some upcoming changes in our life (announcements that will come after they happen so I know that they actually will happen!).
Then I heard a noise. It startled me, and I wanted to investigate, but then I thought about those scary movies where the babysitter, or whoever the female is that's home alone, hears a strange noise, goes to investigate, and the whole time you're screaming at the stupid girl to not do it. I didn't want to be the stupid girl, so I stayed put. And nothing happened! There could have been a masked man hiding in the stairwell, and had I gone down, he would have nabbed me and I would have experienced all sorts of unspeakable atrocities. Or, I could have seen Sasquatch and been traumatized for life. I know, I know. Thank goodness I stayed in bed! No stupid heroine here! So now you can see why I couldn't fall asleep. And until someone develops a cure for sporadic-episodal-insomnia, I will just have to suffer through. And keep a notebook nearby. And maybe some snacks.
Just in case. 
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