I'd Rather Be Sleeping

Christmas Eve Day!

Open House went well.

Plenty of cookies, plenty of cheesy-salsa dip and chips, plenty of people.

Not such a plenteous amount of cider, but my newly formed Field Sense kicked in, and I started adding the Pseudo-Cider (herbal apple/cranberry tea) that I'd been drinking to the cider pot and it stretched until closing time at 9:00.

Did anyone, besides the chap on the bar stool who watched me brewing several pots of the stuff, notice?

Presents are all wrapped and under the tree as of 11:30 last night. I have two beds to make up before tonight, and a few Christmas Day delicacies to concoct today in order that tomorrow will be more relaxed.

But, I wish I were still sleeping.

I continue to wake up several times in the night to rehydrate, cough and blow. My nose. The last time was around 6:30 this morning, but I was awake enough to feel a tickle in my throat that wouldn't be soothed. After trying unsuccessfully to fall quietly back to sleep, I went in search of a cough drop. An hour I'd spent, carefully removing myself from the bedroom to make my gurgling, snuffling, honking noises so as to not wake the (I'm sure fitfully) sleeping husband, only to remember that all the cough drops were in a resealable cough drop bag in my purse, which was in the bedroom.

I should have just taken the thing out of the room, because I ended up being That Person who crackles and crinkles their sweets wrappers during the quietest part of the performance.

After the lozenge was taken, Randall's light was turned off and he was sinking back into oblivion, I decided I was just too awake and uncomfortably congested to stay in bed.

And so.

Scrabble games are caught up, this post is nearly complete, tea has been swallowed, morning has progressed to where The Husband has emerged with the King's College Chapel Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols via Internet/Ipod, bacon and eggs are waiting to be cooked and consumed...

But I'd rather be sleeping...