Passage of Time

Coming to you live at 1am after a few hours of sleep, but I know I won't be able to get back to sleep for a few hours, which will put me at approximately a 1-2 hour nap before I get up for the day. (sigh)

I woke up to my daughter sniffling. Cue my thoughts of her being allergic to the house. Or her bedroom. She  always sneezes and sniffles in there. Outside of taking all her stuffed animals out of there and vacuuming regularly, I'm not sure what else I can do. :/

Then I heard a weird trickle. Is something leaking? What could it be? Maybe it's just rain. Let me lift my head and look outside from the bed. Eh, it looks gray outside, the same it always looks at 1am. Do I have enough energy to get up and look closer? Not really.

At that point, I gave up getting back to sleep. I decided to move into the bathroom. Lest you think I'm a weirdo (which I am, but that's beside the point), I'm less likely to disrupt my husband being an insomniac in the bathroom. AND I have a big bathroom. There's approximately 90 sq ft of carpeted floor space in there. So I'm lounging on the floor in front of the bathtub in my pajamas. The bathroom is really like a sitting room--with closer proximity to plumbing. Now I'm hearing an occasional pitter patter on the skylight in here. Rain, drizzle, mist, showers, sprinkling. That solves the trickle mystery.

I do love my middle-of-the-night blogging/reading time. Quality "me" time.

It's my husband's 20 year high school reunion time. 20 years. Of course he's a couple years ahead of me, so I'm not to that big milestone yet. I'm just vicariously panicking. I remember panicking when I was 25, thinking how I had "lost" so much time, and here I am another decade into my life. This time it's not as much "what have I done with my life?" It's that to a certain degree. It's more like "where has time gone?" It feels like I've been on a path for a while, and I'm turning around to see how much of the path I've already walked.

I started at a four-year university at 17 years old. Now I'm 35. That was more than half my life ago. I met my husband when I was 18. That's almost half my life ago. I got married at 22--a good chunk of my life has passed since then.

Another thing swirling around in my head right now is that I spent some time with my mother this past weekend, and I had the realization that there is only a very slim chance that we're ever going to have a reasonable relationship. I had been holding out hope that things could turn around, that we could have the kind of relationship my aunt and I have. But it's just not going to happen. I can only do so much. She would have to change her mindset. The chance of that is slim. I find it sad because I like to feel in charge of my destiny, but I only have the power to change myself/my thoughts/my attitudes.

I think I'll read a few pages of my book before attempting to go back to bed.

G'night!