One Day More

It needed to be done. Sing with me, friends!

One day more…

Another day another calendar
That is a page I cannot wait to turn
This demon month that plagues the year
is almost over, have no fear!

One day more…

I will not live until that day!
How can I live with April looming?

One day more…

Tomorrow she’ll  be far away!
And then May flowers will be blooming!

One more day of April’s wrath
— Next year we will meet again
One more day of April’s evil!
— If the almanac is true
What a life we all shall have
— And again we’ll muddle through!
When the demon month is done!

One more day left of the storm!
— What to do to pass the time?
At the barricades of FREEDOM!
— Do I cower low in fear?
As our ranks once more must form
— Do I sit and drink a beer?
Come and stand once more with me!

The time is now!
The day is here!

ONE DAY MORE!

One more day to liberation
As spring flowers come to bud
We’ve survived another Hell Month
With our sweat and tears and blood

ONE DAY MORE!

Wow this month has sucked
Insomnia and all!
Computer broke – well, fuck,
this month has got some gall!

First there was the rain
Then of course the work
Add miscommunications
and we’re all berzerk!

One day to a new beginning!
— Raise the Maypole ribbons high!
Every one can have a fling!
— Every one can have a fling!
There’s a new month for the winning
— There’s a new month to be won!
Do you hear the people sing?

It’s almost here!
it’s almost MAY!

ONE DAY MORE!!!

<repeat, overlapping>

Tomorrow April’s far away,
Tomorrow’s celebration day,
Tomorrow we’ll discover
What the next month has in store!

One more dawn,
One more day,

ONE DAY MORE!!!

 

Suck it, Insomnia

A few of us have been succumbing to insomnia lately.  Clearly, this is just one of April’s many nasty antics.  I’ve tried everything: exercising before bed, not exercising before bed, warm milk, warm herbal tea, cold water, benadrylmeditation, TV, reading really boring literature. No dice.

So, here we are in the home stretch of The Demon Month, and I’m still having trouble feeling rested.  And let me tell you in no uncertain terms: it SUCKS.

Until you’ve had the experience of trying to complete some task – washing the dishes, doing homework, folding laundry, standing up – and then realizing that you’ve just been staring into thin air for a solid 30 seconds, you haven’t known the bitter confusion of sleep deprivation. Oh, how I enjoy that precious experience.   <– Sarcasm

BUT, there may be hope. My astounding friend Liz has given me a *wonderful* idea for combating the insomnia horrors and it is called: The Hot Toddy. But with a little update, and therefore I entitle it: The Sleep Potion.

I will share this sacred ritual with you now.

First, you must obtain some whiskey. This step is crucial.  I had not previously purchased hard liquor in my life (whatever), so I had some fun looking at all the pretty shiny bottles at the store (shiny!).  Evan Williams is what Liz suggested, since it’s inexpensive but drinkable.  Any of the higher-quality varieties would certainly serve you well. Or better.

Did you obtain some whiskey?  The whiskey is important. The internets tell me that rum and brandy are also excellent options.

Okay.  Now.  Once you have the delectable nectar, here’s what you add to it.

Traditional Hot Toddies run something like this:

Make hot water happen in a mug.

Add to this mug a squeeze of lemon (maybe a quarter of a whole lemon) and some honey.

At this point, different recipes tell you to add different things: cinnamon and cloves, black tea, etc.

However, if you want to make The Sleep Potion, chamomile tea is the way to go.

Once a mug with hot water, chamomile, honey, and lemon has occurred and rests pleasingly on your counter, retrieve the liquor!  One shot… two shots… a third of the bottle… you decide.

Final step: IMBIBE.

It didn’t put me right to sleep but WOW was I zero restless when I laid down. Highly recommended. Snooze well.

Go Team!

A retrospective: as the winter slooowly winds to a close here in Madison, here’s a tale I just resurrected from the Draft box.  It hails from the steamy days of last summer….
 
I had my yearly physical the other day.  It went well, considering I was pretty shy on sleep.  I really liked my original doctor, but she went and got herself pregnant and is out on maternity leave, so I got switched to a new PCP.  She’s very thorough and great about giving you the justification for all the odd tests she has to run.  She does have an unsettling verbal tick, though, wherein she adds “type thing” to the end of every other sentence.  “It looks to be a mole type thing… You want to make sure you wear your helmet type thing… I just want to listen to your heart type thing….”  No, you want to listen to my HEART!  Not some uncertain organ in its vicinity!  I’m a gal who likes a healthy dose of ambiguity – but not when its about literal doses or my literal health.   Anyway, once you get past that, she’s lovely and it was a good visit.
 
Well, we’re wrapping things up, and she decides that since I haven’t had my blood drawn in a while, we should run a standard test (type thing) to keep my records up to date.  And thus she writes up my after-visit summary, thanks me for coming in, and sends me downstairs to the professional vampires.
 
Here’s where things took a turn for the dangerously perky.  Now, when MOST people are sleep deprived, they experience a sharp downturn in the sunniness of their disposition.  Me, on the other hand, before I slip into zombification, I ride a wave of excessive cheer.  And as I sat in the lobby, waiting to be called in to see the nurse who would draw my blood, I felt the peppy coming on – Ooo, look at the fish in the aquarium! Aren’t those big orange theft-deterrent stickers on the magazines just charmingly awkward! Aaawe, cute baby!!  So it begins.
 
Then a friendly looking woman in a lab coat called my name and I bounced out of my seat and started making chit chat.  Kind woman, she was very amenable to my exuberantly congenial demeanor and merrily gabbed with me all the way to the examining room and on and on while she was finding my vein.  We talked about the heat, the generally perpetual state of being busy – I noted that her earrings matched a painting on the wall (the coordination in some of these new fangled medical institutions, I tell ya!).  It was very friendly.  She took my blood without incident, handed me a cotton swab to stop the bleeding, and while I was applying pressure asked me what kind of band-aid I wanted.  We agreed that the blue Snoopy ones were far superior to either the red or the plain old skin-tone band-aids, so she fetched one of those and popped it on my puncture wound.
 
And then she said, “Good job! All done!” and held out her hand.
 
So naturally, I high-fived her.
 
It was just instinct.  She’d just praised our mutual effort, and seemed to be offering her palm in camaraderie – “Heck YEAH, we just took your blood!”
 
Of course, in reality she was just asking for my cotton swab, which I was still holding, so she could dispose of it for me.
 
Luckily, she was heartily amused and laughed along with me.  We parted friends, and I am happy to say that I probably made her day – or at least gave her a miniature story to tell over coffee break later on.
 
And heck YEAH, we totally took my blood!!