Here I Go Again

And so it begins ...

We're back home from a long weekend away at the cottage. We consumed our turkey, saw lots of autumn colour, and enjoyed our first snowfall. Actually, we didn't enjoy the actual fall because we were asleep at the time, but it was there greeting us in the morning. Now, I'm okay with snow; it has its place — but not on October 13th. No, not then.

We took life pretty easy over the weekend: watched season three of Dexter, all twelve episodes, and two movies: Benjamin Button and Revolutionary Road. My often faulty memory informs me that they were both hot movies last year, but my reviews are so-so. I'll go along with Rev Road, which was really well acted and well done IMO: my totally ill-informed and worthless opinion. It's outlook was rather bleak, or is that black, but it held me. However, B Button was weird for me. Perhaps, I had heard too many good things and expected too much, but I really found it draggy. And the premise was ridiculous.

Oh, I don't really mean the main premise of being born old and becoming younger until death takes Benjamin — mercifully ends — cue credits and turn the video player off. What I mean is that you can't have Bennie Boy being a little baby twice. If his life is to be the reverse of normal, he can't both begin it and end it as a baby, the first time old and the second time young. Somehow, he either has to enter the world large, or end it as a big baby. We're only babies once, blast it all, so they have to pick at which end it will be. Duh.

Dexter was great though. even season three kept me on edge. I keep cheering for that sweet, little serial killer and body dismemberer. I'm like that.

But I'm not really writing at almost one o'clock in the morning to either kill time (so to speak) or to review movies.

No, I'm here to moan, groan and generally complain like the pathetic person that I am. So help me Rhonda, I just want to sleep. Since I didn't get much last night and drove for hours today, it doesn't seem too much to ask, but alas ... the sweet and tender arms of Morpheus elude me. I have even been listening to that incredibly boring book, The Hour I First Believed. Sorry Wally, but it does go on, especially the aural version because one can't revert to speedily scanning the more tiresome parts — of which there are many. Whatever! As plodding as it gets, it doesn't put me to sleep. Not tonight anyway. Sigh.

Except for last night, however, I did sleep well enough at the cottage. I get no credit for that though because I took sleeping pills. They're not all that strong, but they help. But at home, I refuse to rely on them on a consistent basis ...

... so here I am ... whining and whinging to you ... in the wee hours.

Maybe I'll write a post about being thankful sometime. It seems like the proper thing to do after Thanksgiving weekend here in The Great White North. I do have a lot to be thankful for. I know that; I really do. I'm just not feeling it tonight though.

So, I'll just sit here and continue my Pity Party.

But I do have one question: why am I more cramped in our queen size bed at home than the double at the cottage? It's crazy, but I am. And it's not just down to sleeping pills either.

It's nuts I tell ya.