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2002-11-29 - 10:13 a.m.

Economy is making the most of life.

So far, during this brief holiday leave from work, I haven’t been very economical. I’m nearly half-way through a four-day break and have yet to make the most of anything. Except maybe stretching out my days.

Sleeping past the disgraceful five o’clock hour was a much hoped for achievement. That’s been a bust. I’m into day six of one of my frequent and aggravating bouts with insomnia. Sporadic and restless sleep, fully awake by four each morning. Some of this is the fault of BlueDoggy, who also seems to have a whacked out sense of time. The morning has yet to open its eyelids when she hobbles into the bedroom and begins her ritual of bed pawing and barking. My repeated threats of heartless doggy murder have no impact on her. If anything, my raucous threats wind up her barking mechanism.

My days have lengthened to 20 hours, but, instead of being constructive with the time, I’ve staggered and grumbled around in a funky sleep-deprived fog. I laid no elaborate or productive plans for this time off (I’ve learned planning is an effort in futility for me), but I hadn’t planned to spend it in a brain-dead coma, either. Other than gorging myself at Mom’s at Thanksgiving dinner and attacking the horrors of decorating for Christmas, I wasn’t going to do much. I’m a virtuoso at doing nothing, and I’ve, thus far, accomplished my objective!

I stopped by the library one day last week and stocked up on books. A new Marcia Muller and two recent Ann Rule releases. I’ve started the Muller, but it’s slow going. After a while my eyes cross and I’m back in a sleepless stupor. A predawn shower and a 10-cup pot of strong coffee have primed my gears this morning, and I hope to finish the book before day’s end.

I’ve come up with another one or two Christmas gifts (LL Bean mail order, I am NOT going into the crazed masses shopping), so I may brave the paper wrapping wrestling arena and try to get those under the tree sometime today. One is to be shipped out of state, so I can waste time plundering--and muttering obscenities--through Fibber McGee’s closet in search of the brown shipping paper and packing tape. Grappling with the packing tape will eat up endless minutes.

I can’t tolerate daytime television (What is Baba Walters thinking with The View?), and it would be too much to ask for decent movies at night. Tonight’s blockbusters include: Heaven Can Wait; Hairspray; Betsy’s Wedding; Throw Momma From The Train, and BabyCakes. Limitless movie channels, and this is the rubbish I get? Muller will be finished, providing I can keep my clouded head into it.

Despite stuffing myself at dinner yesterday and being miserable most of the afternoon and evening, I stored provisions of ribeyes and pork steaks and fries and Caesar salad fixings for the weekend. Too much eating is never too much. My notion of not doing much includes overeating. I was too drained last night to wield a corkscrew, so I still have the bottle of White Merlot in the refrigerator. Add that to tonight’s entertainment.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll make the most of life!

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