the would-be writers guild

I had a great time last night chatting and eating with Becky, Kami, Shauna, and Tiburon at our special Blogger Home Evening last night. My favorite moment arrived after we had all eaten our monstrous Cafe Rio salads and burritos and one of them (was it Kami?) said, “Now let’s go next door to Leatherby’s.” And I was all like, “Ha, ha, ha! That’s so funny!” (Leatherby’s is a specialty ice cream shop here in the valley that serves ice cream sundaes in two sizes—GINORMOUS and PRACTICALLY ILLEGAL.) And when they were all like, “No, we’re serious.” I was as sure as a girl could be that these friendships we are forming will last forever and ever.

I arrived home late, all rejuvenated and refreshed. I busied myself for a while putting new sheets on my bed and folding laundry. When Ryan and I finally went to bed around 11:30, I pulled the nice clean sheets and blanket up around my shoulders and waited for sleep to come.

But it didn’t.

So I started thinking about things, which is a practice that most people discourage at bedtime. My mind started on a path and gained momentum and ho-boy! the last time I checked my clock in frustration, it was 3:47 a.m..

Not good.

I actually did drift off to sleep sometime after that, slightly panicked that my energy level today would be ruined. However, I woke up to birds chirping and a gentle breeze coming in through the window and I’m happy to report that I am experiencing no sluggishness whatsoever.

But that doesn’t mean that my sleepless night didn’t cost me. I walked past a mirror and glanced at my reflection and gasped. Now what I’m about to share with you may be disturbing to those with sensitive stomachs, but I think it’s my responsibility to raise awareness about the effects of late-night chatting and sleeplessness. This is how I look this morning:

That’s right. I have unlocked the mystery behind Donald Trump’s hairdo. Unbeknownst to me, my tossing and turning all night was creating a serious case of the messy comb-over made famous by one of America’s wealthiest men.

And it makes me think, you know, about how I’ve misjudged the man behind that tough “You’re fired!” exterior. He will no longer fool me, for now I simply see a man in need of a good night’s sleep.

As for the rest of you, take heed. Get to bed early. Practice deep breathing and relaxation techniques. Count sheep. Do whatever you need to do to make sure that you get your recommended amount of sleep, or you too may find yourself suffering from Insomnia Induced Bad Hair most commonly known as “The Donald.”

And if, by chance, my hanging out with bloggers had anything to do with this, then I have only one thing to say: IT WAS TOTALLY WORTH IT! Thanks, gals!