My sleeping rhythms are all off.
Every morning at about 3:30 my eyes pop open and I find myself staring at the red Christmas lights that are currently hanging over our bed. And most of my thoughts have one unifying characteristic. The thing I worry most about. The topic I can't ever tear out of my mind.
Which is probably why if someone peeped into my house at 3:47 last Tuesday morning they would find me sitting in my underwear at the dining room table writing checks and paying my bills online.
You don't pay your bills in your underwear?
Anyway, since buying the house in October we've also had Christmas and nearly completed a kitchen renovation. My poor bank account is starting to feel like a hemophiliac. Always ebbing, never clotting.
Sometimes I wish I could just be one of those people who doesn't worry about money all the time. A person who isn't paralyzed by an unpaid credit card balance. Like a college co-ed whose tuition is taken care of. A girl whose crumby dirty apartment rent can be found between the cushions of a couch.
But, alas, I'm not.
How do you do it?