Today, I watched Annabelle. She was kind of antsy all day, and when I put her down for a nap (because she was getting all cry-y and that usually comes before the "kerplunk!" that sounds as her already sleeping head hits the pillow) she stayed awake for two hours before doing her little whiny I-threw-my-blanket-on-the-floor-so-you-will-now-come-pick-it-up or come-come-now-I'm-obviously-not-sleeping-get-me-out-of-here cry. Knowing it was not going to stop, I went in there, saw that yes, indeed, her blanket was on the floor. So I gave it to her. Then I told her to go back to sleep. She told me she had poopies, and, thinking that sleeping would be hard if you were covered in your own excrement, I picked her up out of her crib and put her on the changing table, only to find she didn't have poopies. I told her that she shouldn't lie to me, and that I was going to put her back in her crib anyway. She started crying. I left. She didn't stop crying for forty-five minutes. But then she slept for an hour and a half. Ugh. Naptime has never sucked so much.
But the rest of the day was excellent. Well, besides the debauchery with the better business bureau an their jankity answering machine message, and the fact that I tore up the inside of my mouth with all the fried chicken I ate. I take-two-ed the going out with the belowmentioned friend, and it worked this time. I haven't seen in him in months, and haven't spent six straight hours with him in years. It was really great. I love that feeling you get when you rediscover something, like all that money I found a few weeks ago, or the diary I'd kept when I was six or seven (that I now keep in my car to keep track of gas mileage), or the friendship that I thought I'd lost.
Anyway. Excellent day. Ending late, but excellent nonetheless.
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