For more than 30 years, I got at least nine hours of totally uninterrupted sleep nearly every night. The last time I slept that long was September 22. Yes, after the baby was born. Back when she took bottles. It was a gift from my husband for our anniversary. He's the best.
Because he knows me well, the question was not "why is there a picture of you with a pot on your head in our shared photostream?" But just why had I put it on my head to begin in the first place.
It's the one with the plastic bag melted on the outside. The good one gallon soup pot.
I was unloading the dishwasher and working on seeing how much more of the plastic bag I could scrape off with my thumbnail. The phone rang. So, naturally I put the pot on my head and went and answered the phone. Like I'm Johnny Appleseed or something. It fit quite well, actually.
In hindsight, I am unclear what prevented me from just setting the pot on the counter like a normal adult person.
Then after I hung up the phone, I wanted to see what I looked like, so I took a picture. Which I then forgot to delete.
(In my mind, I'm blogging in the year 2002 or so and that's why it's totally cool that I leave the picture itself off of this. I'll think about adding it.)
I plead chronic (slight) sleep deprivation. I'm fine as long as nothing unexpected happens. Even the slightest curveball really exposes my seams.
I also cried sleep deprivation five minutes later when he asked why there was a box of cereal in the fridge. Fortunately, I didn't put the milk in the pantry or anything.
PS: the pot still has plastic bag on the outside, so I'm gonna wash it again before anyone uses it.