To the basement that is. We got the couch and entertainment center moved down Saturday and half my craft mess was moved down today. The other half is giving me raspberries and daring me to do something with it. Since it's 12:30 in the morning, I think I'll pass for now.
And that's one of the stinky parts about having depression. I'm exhausted all the time. I mean I could take a nap anytime anywhere exhausted, but I can't sleep at night. I will be falling asleep on the couch at nine thirty, go to bed at ten, and lay awake for the next two to three hours. It sucks, to put it delicately. (If you don't find that delicate, you haven't had insomnia.)
That's why I'm up. Insomnia is sitting in my brain blowing horns and playing rap music (the kind that has themes of guilt and stress and is only found in an insomniacs brain.) It keeps making to do lists for me that involve things like becoming a successful stock photographer, tearing down full walls in my house, and winning the lottery (which I never play but Insomnia doesn't seem to know this.) Insomnia is a busy body with no sense of timing. (This makes for very bad rap music, by the way.)
I'm trying to get my craft mess to blow raspberries at Insomnia in the hopes that they will fight it out. Insomnia is a tough customer but it's a baby compared to Craft Mess, a towering behemoth capable of standing up to Logic and Budget without even flinching. Once the swinging starts, it's only a matter of time. I'm hoping for a KO in the first round.