Anyone else getting pretty fucking sick of singing happy birthday twice, over and over again all day long?
Ever since I started using the CPAP machine and wearing my Apple Watch to sleep, the first thing I do in the morning is check the SleepWatch app on my iPhone to check out my numbers.
This morning when I woke up I took my phone off the swanky charger thingie… inductive? enducive? What ever the hell they call it. I opened up the SleepWatch app and…
Their servers are down.
I can’t see my numbers.
That was 3.5 hours ago and it’s still down.
But… but… but… what am I going to do without my numbers? How am I going to get through the day? Are the SleepWatch staff even still working through the lock down?
I NEED MY NUMBERS! The CPAP app gave me a 98. It ran for seven hours so I got full marks there, but I took the mask off too many times and lost two points. 98 is pretty sweet. It doesn’t tell me how my heart rate dipped though. It doesn’t give me sleep time vs restful sleep time.
I NEED MY NUMBERS!
We expanded our instacart experiment today by placing an order at BJ’s. Double entendre aside, the order consisted mainly of dry goods. Garbage bags, kitty litter, stuff like that. I selfishly and frivolously included a request for some wild bird seed. Jen found one option on the website and we ran with it.
Had I noticed that it was actually a FORTY (40!!) POUND BAG I probably would have thought better of it. As it is, now I have both bird feeders full, and enough left over to refill them probably three more times each.
Come on birds, the dinner bell is ringing!
In closing, here’s a picture of my cat…
I keep notes on each day’s progress when I do the RPM Challenge. I don’t know why, it just seemed like a good idea once and I never stopped. That was probably five or six years ago. In February I usually label each day’s entries as Day 1/28 or whatever. This year it was Day 1/29, thanks leap year.
Now that we’re working on an April RPM Challenge I’m holding with tradition. I labeled the first seven entries this month as Day n/31.
Just let that sink in for a second. Remember, it’s April… Day n/31.
Yeah, I just fixed them all.
I took out the garbage. When I came back in the house my beautiful bride, Jennifer, was standing in front of the cabinet in which we keep our box of garbage bags. I said she needed to take a step to the left….
I then proceeded to pull the entire chorus of Do The Time Warp from The Rocky Horror Picture Show out of my teeny, tiny, little brain. Now, I’ve never been much of a Rocky Horror guy. I saw the movie. It was goofy but okay. I would guess I’ve heard the song Time Warp maybe… three times in my life?
And there it was… the whole chorus… spewing out of my idiot, stir crazy head.
Over the last two days I have had this weird compulsion to do an impression of Jimmy from South Park. I mean, come on. Is there anything funnier than that?
This might be the first true sign that I am losing it a little. I mean, come on. It’s the stir crazy madness.
I’ve been holding this one back for a while but it’s been an issue since day one.
I’m looking at the calendar trying to remember which day this started. I think it was the first day that Jen’s company sent everyone home. March 11th? I think? It might have been the 13th but I’m not sure. Let’s go with that, Friday the 13th. It has a nice ring to it.
Everything was still open but the signs were showing that everything was about to shut down. Before I left for work I told Jen I was planning on making a couple of stops on the way home. As it turned out I didn’t make any of them. Everyone was worried, everyone was starting to react. I decided I would not add any extraneous contact with the outside world and instead of running my errands I went straight home to be with my family.
One of the errands on my list that night was a haircut. I was already a few weeks past needing one. It was getting shaggy and it was starting to bug me a little. Just a little. I was actually trying to be proactive and get it done a little earlier than I usually do. I didn’t go through with it though.
Now it’s April 2nd. Sweet Christmas, does Roberto need to get himself a haircut. Two words: Cousin Effing It. It’s long enough in the front that when I get out of the shower I can’t see. I’m not kidding about the Cousin It. I don’t just feel like him, I look like him. It’s beyond rigoddammeddiculous at this point.
I can honestly say that I spent a couple of minutes on ebay searching for Flowbees in a non-ironic fashion.
Last night I had a really bad night’s sleep. I slept a decent length of time, but I was more exhausted when I woke up than when I went to bed. Yesterday was the same. I blame two little events that happened on sleepiness.
Yesterday before work, maybe around 8:00 AM, I was sitting in the office trying to write a melody for one of my March Music RPMarch songs. I wasn’t getting anywhere and I decided to go and get myself some breakfast. I got up and walked through the office door. Somehow I misjudged the spacial relationships (like sum kinda cat with cut off whiskers or something) and I slapped my left elbow against the door. I got it right on the funny bone. MuthaPussBucket!
Last night after work I was sitting in the office trying to write lyrics to one of my March Music RPMarch songs. I wasn’t getting anywhere and I decided to take a break. I was going to grab some cookies (Nutter Butters, aka Bliss) and watch an episode of The Flash. On my way back from the kitchen I again misjudged the spacial relationships (like some kinda chump) and I slammed my right elbow against the door. I got it right on the funny bone. MuthaPussBucket!
Note: My spell check does not flag MuthaPussBucket as a misspelled word, even though it isn’t even really a word. One of the times I typed it I misspelled it as MuthaPussPucket and the spell checker flagged it. Do I use the word MuthaPussBucket so often that the spell checker lets it slide?
To paraphrase my high school principal’s morning announcement sign off, have a happy and healthy day and don’t forget to wash your damn hands.