And then a miracle occurred

Last night was very rough indeed. The sandman was apparently having an affair with someone else because I didn't catch a single wink last night. I finally fell asleep on the couch after dawn and after a double dose of Seroquel. Didn't wake up until after 1pm today. Groggy, but finally rested.

A few minutes ago, I was surfing my life away and then a miracle occurred. Husband stands up and says to me in a sincere tone, "Have fun blogging, bloghead." So I ask where he's off to and he replies, "I'm going to clean the kitchen." Long pause now for the breath of air I am trying to catch as he walks toward the kitchen. I am all a flutter. Goosebumps as well.

Happiness is a clean kitchen in the land of Crazyville. He's going to be able to milk this good deed for awhile and I really don't mind. Crazyville is on the red level of the terrorist alert scheme when the kitchen has been taken over by other kingdoms, families, and genus. Yuck. When feeling heinously hypomanic-- which is my least favorite section of Crazyville and where I currently hang out--I am in a state of heightened alert, a montage thought pattern bombarding me with organized mayhem. I become an impatient toddler with obsessive tendencies. The carpet really NEEDS to be vacuumed so that all of the vacuum lines in the rug are parallel and the individual fibers all tilt the same direction to make it look the same tint. The knick knacks, scattered across tables and other surfaces, always NEED to be rearranged. And yes, it all has to be done right now. "NOW!" I tell you. This is a really bad part of town.

But, I seem to be able to focus on at least one thing for any duration. I blog and blog and blog til my head transforms into a more amicable pattern. It really works. And so I am left alone to blog while Husband cleans the kitchen. Awesome.