Alas, this may be the last post of NaBloPoMo. I am headed to where there is unreliable cell phone and data transmission for four glorious days of sunshine, family, and fishing. Well, that and I'm not coughing up the Benjamins to pay for roaming ;) I better make this count...
VOMIT
When we vacationed with family this summer, one night we stayed up super late by the bonfire with my BIL and Dinosaur Niece (DN). DN was way overtired, but too keyed up to fall asleep. (Why do kids do that? Babies, even, just *fight* going to bed. I swear that's what my insomnia has been about. Why do we do that?) DN was talking to herself rambling, incessant prattling about dinosaurs - her favorite subject. There was no diverting or soothing her and no logic to her stream of consciousness. BIL said she talked all the way back to the house in his arms and all the way up to bed. The same thing happened to me the night of New Moon: as I drove through the rainy 3:30am hour, I made a verbal purge of every thought in my head. My passengers must have thought I was having a manic episode. There was no processing or editing for social graciousness; just pure, smelly mental vomit. The difference between that and overindulging at a party is that I can recall every inappropriate thing I said. Thus, reinforcing maxim #2 of Joiedevivre: bad things happen when I'm overtired.
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