(Aug. 27/17) “No Smarty Pants Here…A Brief(ish) Sugar-Coded Tale”

Hello, Wonderfuls,

So, if you read yesterday’s post,

(https://trulyunplugged.com/2017/08/26/aug-2617-up-at-the-crack-of-yawn/)

you know my highly-anticipated sleep-in/heavenly piece of extended slumber evaded me.

Well, this morning I have a—be-careful-what-you-wish-for—update…

So, which do you want first, the good news or the bad?

If you’re like me, you’ll likely choose the bad news, in hopes it’ll be cushioned by the relief of the good.

So, the bad news is….

I’m going to start with the good…’cause my telling will be funnier that way…which (I’m hoping you’ll agree) is the good news.

What happened was this:

Late into last night, I watched the final 4 episodes of “How To Get Away With Murder” (Season 3).

Then, upon waking,  I decided a 5:07 a.m. preview of the first 3 episodes of Stephen King’s, “The Mist”, was a good idea.

And, having binged on these series of gory cocktales–I slept in all right…

but awoke at 9:05 a.m. to–“What was I thinking?!”–regrets, and what felt just this side of a hang (your-head) over (the toilet).

Here’s what that looked like like:

Given the curtains’ open invitation, an exuberant sun burst into my room–reducing me to a Squint Eastwood look-alike,

my mouth was as dry as Stephen Colbert’s wit,

and, in a–“Heddy, you’re my new best friend,!” — stupor, Claritin became an anti-bliss-tamine and gave my allergy headache the all clear to “Bang A Gong”.

Just then, young-at-heart snippets greeted me with big knowing grins, and enthused,

“This is our last chance to enjoy happy hours before buzz chill axes any and all mellow vibes as it “Cuts Like A (butcher) Knife”, and takes us out at the knees during the coming workweek…

So, with stealth akin to opening a creaky basement door, I reluctantly opened my laptop, captured my initial inspirations and saved them…

but, I wasn’t out of the (deep, dark) woods yet!

In (do or) dire need of another hour of sleep, I took great pains to carefully close my laptop–for, if Jubilee and Frosty got (ill-) wind of my consciousness–I ‘d being lowering the (coffin) lid on restful aspirations.

I imagine the only reason I was able to sleep until just after 10:00 am, is because they were exhausted from keeping silent vigil while I watched all those hours of Netflix…

However, alerted by my slight hip-shift they figured it was cool to pounce on the chance to drive me out of bed.

(They may be little, but when they employ bone-jarring barks to full effect, it makes me want to check my ears for blood).

Bless their hearts!  Of course they’d be in need of water… and of watering the lawn…

But, just before bounding out of bed, I remembered…

Having diced and sliced fast food from my diet, and scared myself straight out of the urge to (Big Bad) Wolf down second helpings of macaroni and wheeze at your leisure…

(as you climb the two flights of stairs that lead to your office…)

I’ve dropped enough weight that my pajama bottoms gave way to restless nocturnal bedlam, and tried to tie me up in the night…so, I kicked them to the curb (of the bed) and hoped they wouldn’t smother under, chubbster, Frosty’s weight..

Unfortunately, by morning, they’d escaped beyond my reach–wedged, vertically, in the blanket’s sleeper hold.

As such, the challenge became figuring out how to turn a modest tee shirt into a nightshirt…lest–having seen me stripped of my dignity–my neighbors would speak of it long after I’d skulked out of town.

Still horizontal, a taffy pull on the hem of my V-neck left No Doubt that a crouching tiger hidden duck-walk to my dresser was the only option..

(Sorry for the TMI image….and, let’s “Don’t Speak” of this again))

So, Kindhearts, that’s how my day started, and it was quite uneventful after that.

I shared this mundane happening because light and fluffy certainly has value for a brain in need of rest.  Given extra work duties (namely, crisis responses), the last two weeks felt like a month–and, with the beginning of the school year approaching, my colleagues and I will soon be back in the thick of things.

I loved spending this time with you…the thought of making you smile makes me smile, too.  Thanks for inspiring me to write today.  It was fun.

Until next time…

God bless you and your loves.

Affectionately,

Truly

P.S. I think the puns are self-explanatory, although you might have to read some lines more than once–to get the rhythm/feel of them.  There are 3 puns in the title;  and Heddy is a nod (pun intended) to silver screen actress, Hedy Lamarr (pronounced Heddy)–and a play on heady, as in delightful/euphoria inducing; “Bang A Gong” is a 1971 hit by T. Rex; “Cuts Like A Knife” is a (1983) Bryan Adams hit; “and, Don’t Speak” is No Doubt’s (1995) hit.

P.P.S.  As you may remember, I don’t drink; and, a former fan of horror movies/books, I haven’t been drawn to them for years.  However, Stephen King is the exception–hooked in my early 20’s, I still love his stuff.

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