I woke up to a gross face. You know what I mean. When there are colds in your house, and you’re already hyper aware about getting sick, and then the weather changes and your mouth is so gross and smutchy and dehydrated and gross some more? I know, I’m really selling it. Well. We’re there.
As I lay here at 5am, my mind is wandering.
I wonder if we’ll be given next steps when bradys chemo is over.
I wonder when we last traded the sheets out on our bed. They are so wrinkled underneath my body.
I wonder if my most recent, very off putting dream will come true. I really hope not. Though I hope I have as many kids as I saw in my dream.
I’m continually drinking water from the Bethany cup that lives beside my bed. No dice. Still smutchy.
This is the absolute only time I ever notice the smoke alarm in our bedroom lightly blinks. Huh.
Brady is sleeping peacefully. I know he’ll tell me I should’ve woken him so I wouldn’t be awake alone, but he’s had enough choppy night recently, so I will be more than fine.
I’m working hard to keep my brain at bay. I know I’m not supposed to use my phone when I’m trying to sleep but it’s been over an hour now and I choose distracted wakeful time over anxious idle time.
I’d rather sleep. I would always rather sleep…