Confused Night Owl Seeks Naps Daily

I am officially through the first trimester. Yesterday brought Week 15. My mom and sister both told me that if I could just get through the first trimester I would get my mojo back, meaning I would stop taking naps after breakfast and lunch, start working out again, and stop eating Reeses Puffs cereal (gag, gag, gag).

I'm not sure if my mojo is back but it's 4:45 a.m. and in the last hour I have:

• sewed the two missing buttons back on RE's cardigan
• glued RE's stud earring jewel that is the size of 1/3 of a piece of uncooked rice back onto its post
• ironed an 8" scrap of ric rac and glued it to a homemade card
• ordered RE's phone case from amazon so we can finally close the internet page that has been up for 3 days
• filed my sales tax
• started a lasagna
• refused the craving for red Kool-aid and sipped blueberry pom juice with a few plain Cheerios instead (Cheerios, now there is a cereal worth eating)
• folded my sweaters
• put a bunch of bubble wrap down with the shipping boxes

This is all because I fell asleep a little after 9 last night and my body is currently going through a I CAN'T BE ON A MATTRESS MORE THAN SEVEN HOURS phase. Greg was up coughing (he caught my cold but can take Mucinex DM, that lucky sapsucker) and I realized I was wide awake, hungry, and mildly stressed about all the little undone things sitting on desks and counters and sewing tables. So I got up and took care of them.

The snowplows just scraped State Street, Lucy is confused by my being up and just went outside, and I'm considering running to the grocery store now so I won't have to go later when it's naptime.

Mojo? No no.

*Charlie Brown sticker from my sticker book. Remember sticker books? I kept Lisa Frank in business in the early 80s. 

Speaking of owls, this children's verse has been a favorite of mine for years:

A wise old owl lived in an oak.

The more he saw the less he spoke.

The less he spoke the more he heard.

Why can't we all be like that bird?