An even more pointless entry than usual
It's warm. It's very warm. I don't like it when it's warm. Yes, it's good for my back, but it's also good for spiders. What's good for spiders generally isn't good for my mental health and well-being. And right now, I'm remembering it's not so good for sleeping. Not that I'm trying to sleep right now, but even though I likely won't even get ready for bed for another hour at least, I'm already fretting about sleeping conditions.
I burrow. I'm very much a burrower. I cannot for the life of me sleep with a thin blanket or a sheet, much less bare, no matter how fatigued I am. I have to curl up beneath a sheets AND a blanket AND a comforter, and in the winter, a fleecy blanket. And I surround my head with a number of pillows-- in addition to the two actually stacked beneath my head (the top one being a down pillow so that my head sinks in enough that it too feels burrowed and somewhat hidden), I have two pillows set perpendicular to the headboard, one on each side, flanking my upper body. I'm a serious nester. I don't get cold easily, so I actually have to keep the heat turned down way low at night in the winter to make sure I'm still cool & comfy even in the depths of my den. No, I burrow and nest because I'm comforted by the weight and security the big poofy layers provide me when I am at my most vulnerable. If I'm curled up and hidden in the center of my nest, I am safe. No one can get me- not burglars, not spiders, not zombies, nor any of the other things that can break in and poke at me and rouse me from my sleep.
Of course this presents a problem in the warmer months. There are few things that annoy me more than waking 2 hours before my alarm, because I'm drenched in sweat. That's why I'm uber grateful to have been blessed with a house with a central AC system AND a ceiling fan in the master bedroom. The central air is a true rarity in these old Victorian row homes, and I still can't believe I managed to score such a gem (and with a garage! And a hammered copper sink! And a built-in bookcase! And hardwood floors! It's been a year since my offer was accepted, and I STILL can't believe it really happened!). However, it's just a bit too early in the year to turn the AC on. And it's supposed to be in the mid-50s tonight. Not really AC appropriate weather, even though it's still much warmer inside right now than I would prefer.
Now, on any other night, this wouldn't be a problem. On any other night, I'd happily crack a window and let the ceiling fan waft cool shivery goodness over my nest so I can burrow in ever deeper. But I can't do this tonight. Tonight is garbage and recycling night. Even if it was just a garbage pick up night, I could do it. The garbage truck usually doesn't wake me.
The recycling truck, however, is the bane of my existance.
My bedroom is at the front of the house. My lovely bay windows look out over the sidewalk where the recycling bins lie in wait. Paper collection is fine, but those damn bins full of cans and bottles? Oh, how I hate them. In the winter, with the windows closed and my white noise air filter gadget thingie running, I can sleep through the racket about 8 nights out of 10. But in warmer weather, with the windows open, I can hear the recyclables being tossed and dumped and emptied from two blocks away, both directions. Which means when they come at 4.10 in the morning, I get to lie there and listen to the incessant clink and clatter of bottles and cans and bins thunking and clanging and rattling and smacking for close to 45 minutes as they move through the neighborhood. And my block is on a one way section of our street, so they get both sides at once. Efficient and awesome for the collection guys, sure. But it prolongs the noise. And I'll be honest, it's not so much the annoyance of being jarred from sleep at such an awkward hour on a work night-- it's the goddamn noise itself. For 45 minutes, that cacophany of recyclables sets my teeth on edge. I'm insane and I always set my empty cans and bottles into my bin, I never EVER toss them in simply because I find the noise to be so jarring and unnerving. So to listen to that very noise multiplied 100 fold for 45 minutes is upsetting and finds me inventing all sorts of colorful new curses and laments. Summer itself is okay because once again, the windows are shut tight due to the AC. But those in-between nights, when it's too warm to close the windows but not yet warm enough for the AC, well, I find myself fretting over how well I'll sleep if I can't build up a proper nest or escape the sounds of the recyclable collection crews.
In related news, I dusted the blades of the ceiling fan for the first time in a year today. That was an exercise in horror and denial. That's another reason why I'm angsting over the windows open vs closed decision tonight. Obviously it's too warm to forgo the fan tonight, but after seeing what my Swiffer picked up, I don't want that thing running without ventilation tonight. Heh, I definitely need to keep a steady breeze moving through that room for a few hours at least to ensure the dust and crap flying off the blades doesn't settle onto my bed while I'm in it. Ew. Having never had a ceiling fan before I moved into this house, I had no idea that one had to dust the blades more than once a year. Especially weird since there's not a lot of dust in that room.
Anyway. That's that. All of this talk about nests and sleeping is taking its toll on this highly suggestible little Fox. Time to go burrow. Hey, maybe a healthy dose of Benadryl will address both the recycling truck issue and the "holy shit I found the Easter bunny's mutilated remains atop my ceiling fan" dust clump fallout. Mmmmm, Benadryl.
I burrow. I'm very much a burrower. I cannot for the life of me sleep with a thin blanket or a sheet, much less bare, no matter how fatigued I am. I have to curl up beneath a sheets AND a blanket AND a comforter, and in the winter, a fleecy blanket. And I surround my head with a number of pillows-- in addition to the two actually stacked beneath my head (the top one being a down pillow so that my head sinks in enough that it too feels burrowed and somewhat hidden), I have two pillows set perpendicular to the headboard, one on each side, flanking my upper body. I'm a serious nester. I don't get cold easily, so I actually have to keep the heat turned down way low at night in the winter to make sure I'm still cool & comfy even in the depths of my den. No, I burrow and nest because I'm comforted by the weight and security the big poofy layers provide me when I am at my most vulnerable. If I'm curled up and hidden in the center of my nest, I am safe. No one can get me- not burglars, not spiders, not zombies, nor any of the other things that can break in and poke at me and rouse me from my sleep.
Of course this presents a problem in the warmer months. There are few things that annoy me more than waking 2 hours before my alarm, because I'm drenched in sweat. That's why I'm uber grateful to have been blessed with a house with a central AC system AND a ceiling fan in the master bedroom. The central air is a true rarity in these old Victorian row homes, and I still can't believe I managed to score such a gem (and with a garage! And a hammered copper sink! And a built-in bookcase! And hardwood floors! It's been a year since my offer was accepted, and I STILL can't believe it really happened!). However, it's just a bit too early in the year to turn the AC on. And it's supposed to be in the mid-50s tonight. Not really AC appropriate weather, even though it's still much warmer inside right now than I would prefer.
Now, on any other night, this wouldn't be a problem. On any other night, I'd happily crack a window and let the ceiling fan waft cool shivery goodness over my nest so I can burrow in ever deeper. But I can't do this tonight. Tonight is garbage and recycling night. Even if it was just a garbage pick up night, I could do it. The garbage truck usually doesn't wake me.
The recycling truck, however, is the bane of my existance.
My bedroom is at the front of the house. My lovely bay windows look out over the sidewalk where the recycling bins lie in wait. Paper collection is fine, but those damn bins full of cans and bottles? Oh, how I hate them. In the winter, with the windows closed and my white noise air filter gadget thingie running, I can sleep through the racket about 8 nights out of 10. But in warmer weather, with the windows open, I can hear the recyclables being tossed and dumped and emptied from two blocks away, both directions. Which means when they come at 4.10 in the morning, I get to lie there and listen to the incessant clink and clatter of bottles and cans and bins thunking and clanging and rattling and smacking for close to 45 minutes as they move through the neighborhood. And my block is on a one way section of our street, so they get both sides at once. Efficient and awesome for the collection guys, sure. But it prolongs the noise. And I'll be honest, it's not so much the annoyance of being jarred from sleep at such an awkward hour on a work night-- it's the goddamn noise itself. For 45 minutes, that cacophany of recyclables sets my teeth on edge. I'm insane and I always set my empty cans and bottles into my bin, I never EVER toss them in simply because I find the noise to be so jarring and unnerving. So to listen to that very noise multiplied 100 fold for 45 minutes is upsetting and finds me inventing all sorts of colorful new curses and laments. Summer itself is okay because once again, the windows are shut tight due to the AC. But those in-between nights, when it's too warm to close the windows but not yet warm enough for the AC, well, I find myself fretting over how well I'll sleep if I can't build up a proper nest or escape the sounds of the recyclable collection crews.
In related news, I dusted the blades of the ceiling fan for the first time in a year today. That was an exercise in horror and denial. That's another reason why I'm angsting over the windows open vs closed decision tonight. Obviously it's too warm to forgo the fan tonight, but after seeing what my Swiffer picked up, I don't want that thing running without ventilation tonight. Heh, I definitely need to keep a steady breeze moving through that room for a few hours at least to ensure the dust and crap flying off the blades doesn't settle onto my bed while I'm in it. Ew. Having never had a ceiling fan before I moved into this house, I had no idea that one had to dust the blades more than once a year. Especially weird since there's not a lot of dust in that room.
Anyway. That's that. All of this talk about nests and sleeping is taking its toll on this highly suggestible little Fox. Time to go burrow. Hey, maybe a healthy dose of Benadryl will address both the recycling truck issue and the "holy shit I found the Easter bunny's mutilated remains atop my ceiling fan" dust clump fallout. Mmmmm, Benadryl.