I have one sofa. One love seat. I sleep on neither (oh, the woes of an insomniac). However, Beck is on the iPod, so there you have it. Ready-made title.
I'm restless today. Restless in my house, restless in my skin, restless in my life. I used to have this feeling a lot, but haven't had to worry about it for a while. It comes, it goes, it never means anything except that I eat less and spend a lot of time looking out the window. Sigh.
I've never had a year of changes like this past year. A new city and home (and all that goes with that), a kid starting school, losing my Dad--it takes its toll. Used to, there were things I feared so much (like another snake in the kitchen--it's a wonder I didn't have to be institutionalized after that happened). Now, I pretty much feel like, "Whatever, dude. Nothing can feel worse than losing Dad." I mean, yeah, there are things that would feel worse--anything happening to my children, for example. But you get the gist of what I'm saying.
There are the good moments too. A week or so ago, Bellamy and Sutton were wrestling on the bed. Bellamy pushed Sutt down and sat on him and we heard her scream, "You're my bitch! Sutt's my bitch!" Blaker and I froze and looked at each other, then turned to Belly. Blaker asked her what she said again, and she replied (very matter-of-factly), "Well, Daddy, I sat on Sutton and he's my bench." Oh, bench. Whew. (Now I keep telling Blaker he's my bench. It makes for an excellent inside joke.)
I'd like to have told Dad I made Blaker my bench. He would have gotten a kick out of that.