For the last few months I've returned home from work and zonked on the couch. The Hater's been my house husband and has done everything from supper to guiding me back to the bedroom. The last week I've been proud to have moved from immediately falling asleep on the couch to four feet further west to the armchair. We rejoice in all of the baby steps.
Well, last night I came in from work... much like other days. We ate supper without a hitch, and I even stayed up for a few hours with The Hater. I had intentions to visit a little longer with him before dusting the apartment before my parents came into town.
It was a great plan.
Nature called before I'd decided it was officially time for me to become productive. I was still wearing my scrubs from work, and decided after I was finished that it would be easier for me to waddle (with my pants and hose at my knees) to the bedroom to change into my pajamas than it would be for me to wrestle the hose back up just to turn around and take them off.
I sat down on the bed. The next thing I remember The Hater was waking me up...
"Sweet Girl! Are you okay?"
An hour had passed; I had fallen asleep on the bed, still wearing my shoes, still wearing my makeup, still wearing my scrubs, albeit my pants and panty hose were down to my knees. Apparently I'd fallen asleep before I could change.
The idea of falling asleep mostly clothed is so amusing that we thought it was a story worthy of sharing. I'm just proud I made it out of the living room and into the bedroom before I zonked.
Meanwhile, The Dorks have safely made their trip to OKC. Tomorrow we explore the magical Elk City.