Snoozin' in Sacrament

I was so tired this morning, but woke up at 5:00 a.m. anyway. Even with another 1/2 hour of sleep between 6:30 and 7:00 (when I had to get up for a meeting), I was beyond sleepy. So the thing is, halfway through sacrament, I cannot...repeat...cannot keep my eyes open. At least I don't put my head on Niel's shoulder (although he'd like that) or do anything quite so obvious; but I hate falling asleep in sacrament. Mostly I hate falling asleep because it's so rude and I worry about the poor speaker who might feel slighted.

In fact, I hate falling asleep anywhere but in my own little bed. I have fought off sleep in work meetings (the worst because the setting is small and it's hard to cover it); Education Week (which made me mad because it was Michael Wilcox and I really, really, really wanted to hear it); the Temple (which is such a wasted opportunity); and airplanes (I think almost everyone has to learn to sleep on a plane or you'll go crazy). But, surprisingly, I cannot sleep in a car.

I didn't used to be this way. I laughed along with everyone else with kids who were caught snoozing in science class. I used to only be able to sleep in a dark room. And now I am broadening my nap places. It can only be old age. I just don't know what else it could be, unless it was years and years of sleep deprivation catching up with me...

Random Thoughts On Tears

*Why does everyone always say it makes you feel better if you cry? It doesn't. Tears don't heal what hurt you and they don't change any outcomes. I especially hate the ones that make you sniffley and gulping.

*The weirdest time that I remember not crying was when I dropped Sarah off at her first day of college. She was very teary and homesick and I hadn't even left yet. I remember thinking that I had better not cry or she'd lose it all together. When I was driving home, I swallowed and felt tears run down my throat. I realized I had been crying inside, even if not outside.

*I used to cry quite easily. I cried in movies, I cried reading books, I cried in plays. That all stopped probably about 10 years ago. The last time that I remember crying a lot over anything was when we moved. I don't cry so easily now. But when I do, I really hate it.

*I had a boyfriend in high school who would melt at the sight of a girl in tears. I think I used that sometimes. However, it just made my first husband more angry if I cried during an argument; possibly because he never knew what to do to fix it.

*My mother absolutely hated it when I cried. She would call me a ball-baby and say that I was feeling sorry for myself. I probably still do.

*I think I cried all the way through my twenties and thirties. I remember at my father-in-law's funeral crying my eyes out because I loved him so. He was the father figure I never had as a child and now he was gone. My friend, Karrie, told me later that she was amazed that I could cry as hard as I had and look pretty good. She said my eyes weren't swollen and my skin wasn't blotchy. I think that is fair compensation. If you have to spend a lot of your life in tears, at least you should look okay while you're crying.

Where's The Remote?

Let me begin by saying that I believe that Time is a gift from God. Whether it is our time here on earth, time to learn and change, or precious, precious time spent with loved ones; Time is a gift.

I had an experience years ago, when I was a stay-at-home mom, that taught me a lot. I was sitting in my bedroom and the kids were in school. I said, out loud (mind you, I don't know why I say things out loud when no one is there...), "I think I will waste some time." Suddenly I was impressed with a room full of spirits that had passed on and they were dismayed at the thought of me wasting time they wished desperately they had back. I am ashamed to say, I still wasted the time. Nevertheless...

That's not the point. I believe that we shall account for how we spend our time. I'm okay with that. I really am. But my hope is that I shall get an accounting back. I would like to know how much time in my 50 1/2+ years so far I have spent:

1) In waiting rooms. I figure that between six kids (dentist, doctor, whatever), the time when I was a little girl and had to go to the doctor a lot, obstretician appointments, etc., that I have spent "mucho, mucho" time in waiting rooms. I just want to know how much. And I have progressed from spending the time reading "Highlights" to "People" to "Ladies Home Journal" to "Time" and "Newsweek" back to "Highlights" again. I always loved "Goofus and Galant" and those "Find in this Picture" things.

2) Waiting for policemen to write up the speeding ticket he just pulled me over for. Luckily, the one the other day was quite quick. I think they are really making these speedtraps efficient. But don't you really, and I mean really, hate it when you are sitting there by the side of the road, the policeman's lights are flashing, and everyone who normally would be speeding has slowed down to look over at you as they crawl by, with a smirk on their faces because they know you got a ticket, nyah, nyah, nyah?

3) Looking for things like the remote. Or keys. Or reading glasses. I mean, really! Last summer Niel's boys lost the remote for days; days, I kid you not! My house is so small. There's only so many places a remote can go. How on earth can things like that ellude us for so long? And don't you hate how when you are looking for it, you realize that the area under your couch cushions has not been cleaned for a while? And these days it's not like you only have to look for a tv remote. There are dvd remotes, old VHS remotes, etc. And half of the bells and whistles on our tv won't work without a remote, so the old "Get up and change the channel" doesn't really fly. Why, sonny, back in my day we adjusted the volume by hand and the responsibility to change channels was given to the one lying on the carpet closest to the tv.

In a perfect world, you would never have to waste time looking for the remote.