Oh my God, y'all. I'm so fucking excited to sleep in my own bed tonight I can barely stand it. Sleep number beds help you sleep better, my ass. They don't stop the dog from barking or the phone from ringing in the middle of the night. Nor do they make that heavy-ass down duvet any less sweltering. I had a dream I was pinned under something the first night I was staying at my aunt and uncle's. I think it was because I felt trapped under the duvet.
Of course I'll only be home for about two hours tonight. Hopefully I can get mostly unpacked before I head to yoga and I won't have to do much once I get home from the Band of Horses show tonight. I feel like I've not seen a show in ages, but really it's probably only been a month since Interpol. Christ, I hope there wasn't some big show in between there that I saw, about which I am currently spacing.
I have to try to find some time to clean my apartment before Friday. My cousin and her partner are coming to town and are going to stay with me Friday night. Can't have them thinking I live in some sort of sty. Granted, it's pretty neat in there as I had tidied up for The Boy's last visit and then have been away for several days. But I'm pretty sure I need to dust and chase the dust bunnies from the corners like nobody's business.
For whatever reason, I'm having a dilemma as to the sleeping situation. I've only ever had one overnight guest at a time in this place, so I've never had to worry about where to put two people, especially since they happen to be a couple. I have a queen-size air mattress. Is that good enough? Or should I feel obligated to offer them my bed? Why is this such a confusing issue? I need to make sure I have batteries for that stupid air pump. I stole that air mattress from my parents for a reason, I guess. I should probably use it. Okay, they let me take it because it kinda sucks and they bought a better one. But it's better than nothing.
Sweet, merciful crap this blog has been boring as shit this week. Sorry, y'all. I'm all out of sorts and whatnot with living out of a suitcase and being surrounded by batshit crazy dogs and teenage girls. Guess I'm more of a homebody than I thought. I could never have a job that required a lot of travel. I always need to counteract being away or being really busy with some serious alone time. Of course, I won't be having a weekend at home to myself. No, there's the Friday house guests and an all-day drinking affair on Saturday. But Sunday? Oh, Sunday it will be me on the couch watching football all by my lonesome. I can't fucking wait.
Hopefully that will be the recharge I need so I stop writing such lame bullshit.