Saturday, February 27, 2010

If Stuff Changes and You Don't Like it, You Gotta FITYMI

I hate sleeping on the weekend. Several years ago we bought a very nice mattress - the kind that's (I'm eyeballing it from the desk here) about 16" deep, with another 2" pillowtop on top of that. Making for a wonderful, comfortable bed that's great for sleeping, and reading, and knitting, and cuddling -- passive AND active! Here's the thing: I took an Ambien a couple of hours ago because I got such a rotten night's sleep last night, and have a long day (fun day, but long) ahead of us tomorrow, so I want to get a good night's sleep tonight. The blanket is turned on; the cats are all in position, waiting patiently for the cuddles, scratches, and covers to be rearranged. But damned if I can get into that bed. I'd much rather be here, jabbering God-know-what on a keyboard that's the wrong size so I keep making typos. A little while ago (when it was already well past my bedtime) I got the bright idea to make lemon squares for a friend who has invited all the usual suspects for a last-minute dinner. Once the lemon bars are done, what excuse will I use?

David and I were talking about the term "fake it until you make it" on the ride to school today. I was trying to explain how we learn thing through exposure, that sometimes grownups don't really believe what they're trying to pass along under the guise of "wisdom". He's not a believer, since he thinks lying is immoral -- wait: what did he just say? Anyway, he's not ready to try "FITYMI" Which means one thing: I'm going to have to be the grownup here, and sleep in the bed, (on Tom's side of the bed because I have always slept on his side of the bed when he was traveling ... keeping it warm until he gets back.) I'll sleep in the damn bed for what, three weeks? a month? and then eventually it will be my bed, my side, and I'll be comfortable sleeping alone.

I'll know I will have made it the morning I get out of the right side of the bed. With any luck, I won't have grown warts, or developed a third arm growing out of my ear. Then maybe David can face a tiny, albeit paralyzing, discomfort of his own choice, and he'll learn the magic powers found in FITYMI. I love you David.