I hate to complain about the weather, mostly because it’s been consistently 5-10° cooler than average this summer, and all y’all on the east coast are in the midst of a heat wave. Seriously guys? Thanks for taking the worst of our weather this year.
So, there’s a new gorilla at Hogle Zoo, and, as gorilla’s happen to be G’s favorite animal, Sis suggested taking a trip to the zoo to see it. The zoo was fun. Afterwards…
I love my nephews, I really do. And I’m glad that I can do fun activities like go to the zoo with them. The problem is, activities like the zoo wear out little boys, to the point of orneriness, but not necessarily sleep. So, while wedged in the back with a 3-year-old going back and forth between throwing a tantrum and stealing his brother’s pacifier, and a 9 month old who wanted to go to sleep but couldn’t because his pacifier kept getting stolen, I started to feel sick.
Like,”Oh, crap, I’m going to puke.” sick.
I get car sick, and know that I can’t, say, read while in a car, but usually just driving, even if I’m in the backseat isn’t enough to make me sick. Especially on paved roads.
The B-I-L mentioned that it was a warm, if not super-hot day, and it might have been brought on by heat exhaustion and dehydration. Which actually makes sense to me. I had full-on heatstroke as a kid, and, like I said in the title, you don’t ever really recover from heatstroke. Once you’ve had it, your sensitive to heat for the rest of your life.
Of course, the extra weight I’m hauling around isn’t helping anything.
I did make sure to bring some water, but, G liked my stainless-steel water bottle, and ended up drinking most of it.
Anyway, I ended up staying at Sis’s house for longer than I meant to, trying to recover before heading home–I would have stayed the night except I didn’t take the dogs.
So I’m home, alive, and still feeling whatever this is.
The good news is, I’m tired enough that I’m actually going to get to bed at a decent time tonight.
Last night, I had one of those nights where I saw the sunrise.
Which meant I spent yesterday sleeping.
Which now means, it’s 1:50 am, and I’m wide awake.
The dogs hate it when I do this. Or maybe not. Right now, they’re curled up in the center of my bed, in the spot where I like to put my legs, and so don’t let them sleep. Lulu’s snoring loudly, so, obviously, she, at least, isn’t too concerned about my strange sleep habits.
Montaigne (I promise I’ll cut down on the Montaigne references. I’m just really enjoying his book.) Says that he who has learned not to be afraid of death has learned how not to be a slave. I’d like to add that this is true only if you are not afraid of living, too.
I have Facebook friends who remark on the passage of the week, saying stuff like “Happy Wednesday!” for instance or, “Almost Friday!” Part of me is glad for these updates–if nothing else, it helps me keep track of the days of the week. But on the other hand, they do mark the passage of time–time that I’m not taking advantage of.
For someone who was mourning lost opportunities a few days ago, I’m sure not taking advantage of the ones I have right now.