I can't feel my feelings....I can't get up to get anything. I am comatose on the couch. Hudson is enjoying grapes on the floor next to my feet. I am so grateful he can feed himself. Eventually I'll have to get up to do something like walk upright and choke down some water. Hudson just took said grapes and dumped all 517 of them on the carpet and is about to make wine. Now I have to get up. Is there a Pack and Play as big as my house that I can put him in...just for a little while...until I recover from 3 hours of sleep and last nights gig. I'll throw in the grapes and a sippy cup for his lunch while I recover
I smell one whopper of a diaper too..from the couch. WHOA...even the cat ran and hid.
Probably because he can't bury it with the litter that peppers my kitchen floor that I cannot enjoy walking on with bare feet anymore because of this.
I don't know how 60 year old men still rock.......after last night..I just don't know. I am what anybody but a lazy slob would call "out of fucking shape". I was using the mic stand as a crutch by the third set and was sure that I was hallucinating from exhaustion...or that annoying middle blue light focused on my shiny forehead...3 hours of sleep is a crime. A 2 year old plus 3 hours of sleep equals a breakdown of some sorts. Rock Yawn!