Restored

Fiorella has been in a very stressful situation lately which has resulted in her boiling over with anger, not being able to sleep, running around like a chicken with her head cut off--the works--so today she took the afternoon off and put up her Halloween decorations.  A big metal jack-o-lantern went on the wrought iron table in the yard, paper pumpkins were stuck to her front door and selected side windows, and a swirl of cardboard bats were arranged so they moved from one front window to the next one. In addition, a small plastic skeleton now hangs from the mailbox (buzon) out on the road (camino).

And Fiorella is happy.

Fiorella Speaks

I think the mosquito that's been buzzing around me for the past two days finally died of bloat.

I like Spanish--no case endings on nouns.

When I get to heaven, I will be met by all the umbrellas I've lost through the years.

I am very tired today.  Maybe it has something to do with not getting any sleep last night.

Good Tidings!

Fiorella may have had a a rough time going to sleep last night, but she woke up feeling G-R-R-R-E-A-T!

Reviewing her yesterday,  Fio and Husband finalized the refinancing of la casa, she managed (with the help of Husband and Minnesota Son) to put another picture on Facebook, heard from a high school friend she has been trying to get in touch with for a while, and tore into a rewrite of her novella.

Then, this morning, she read several heartening stories in the newspaper--like that xenophobic Germany will accept 500,000 refugees a year, the Pope is easing  the process for annulments, and almost 10,000,000 people have health insurance now (through Obamacare),

Afterwards, she checked her calendar and learned that today she has brunch with Friend Evelyn and lunch with Friend Paula.

Ah--life is good in FiorellaLand.

To Sleep or Not to Sleep

Fio couldn't sleep last night--or at least she thought she couldn't.  She finally got out of bed at five, convinced she'd spent the past six hours lying in bed with her eyes closed, but her brain churning with activity. Then she went downstairs and snuggled on the couch for two hours, again with her eyes closed and her brain grinding.

Strangely, Husband, who was up several times during the night with his own problems, says she was sleeping like a baby.  And Fio has no memory of him getting in and out of bed.

Any theories?

Educational TV

If you are parents who want to bring up kids to be sweet and caring, check out The Little Couple.

If you are a guy who wants to break into television, court a Duggar daughter from Nineteen and Counting.

If you doubt Americans are the most blessed people in the world, watch House Hunters.

If you can't go to sleep, turn on late night television.

Panic Mode

Panic!  Fiorella has done the math and realized that she's going to have to grind out two chapters a month in order to finish Lolly's story (with revisions) by May.  She used to write a lot faster.  What has slowed her down? Well, whatever, she'd better get a move on.  And she'd better start sleeping better too, in order to discharge all the demons of doubt and despair that have been plaguing her lately.

Yeah, that's one theory that makes sense to Fiorella, that sleep is vital to clearing the brain of all the trash.

Hello, Starbucks!

Two soaks in the tub last night.  In and out of bed, and in and out of bed, and in and out of bed.  Watching TV and trying to read.  Yet Fiorella still couldn't sleep.  The internet is down in Casa Fiorella and how can Fio survive without email, Google, and Facebook?  Yes, Fio has a communication addiction to feed.  

Neither Husband nor ECPI seem to be able to fix whatever the problem is so Fio's last hope is Son, who's coming over this evening.  Wish us well because otherwise Fiorella's going to be establishing permanent residence in her local Starbuck's, where she is now sitting and keying in this message.

UPDATE:
Hooray!  We went back on line suddenly right after Fiorella returned home from Starbuck's, but we're not sure what happened.  Husband's theory is that ECPI's signal was too weak and someone finally amped it up.  Fio's theory is that the house electronic systems realized that if they didn't get on their game, Fio and Husband would be taking all their business to Starbuck's.

Whatever.  The internet is running and Fio has all sorts of things (yawn) to do, but she's a little worn out (yawn) from her sleepless night so she thinks she'll lean back for a moment and--zzzzzzzzzz . . . .

Wanted: Sweet Dreams

Fiorella has been having problems with insomnia lately.  Not the good kind, the Hollywood kind which keeps you up all night writing brilliant novels or composing breathtaking music, then lets you sink into slumber as the candle gutters down and dawn leaks through the latticed window.  No, Fio has the kind that sends her from bedroom to den and back again and again, pillow under her arm, with sidestops along the way for a long, hot bath and to pick up some books that might make her drowsy.  In every location and variation, she tries to will herself to sleep, which only seems to keep her more awake.  Pills, stupid TV shows--nothing helps.

It's time to call in the big guns: she'll consult Dr. Google.

Chocolate-aholic

Fiorella confesses that what she deserved was severe and painful indigestion, but what she got was a mild case of the burps and not being able to sleep until three in the morning. Classic over-caffeinization.

Her eyes kept glazing over as she was working on revisions of Princess of Bosque Bend yesterday so, since Fio doesn't drink coffee or tea, she decided to have a bite of chocolate to keep her alert. After all, she'd overbought for Easter, as usual, and had a cheap, off-brand one-pound bunny she needed to check out.

She checked it out for lunch, all afternoon, and supper. By bedtime she was still wide awake. She took a hot bath. She mentally reviewed Big Bang Theory. She counted sheep. Nothing worked. Finally she staggered downstairs and watched TV till her eyes began to close during commercials. Then she made her way back upstairs, finally able to get some rest.

But today's a new day. And there's still some of that bunny to go.

Not at My Best

Friday morning
I'll confess
Didn't sleep well
I'm a mess
Tired and cranky
That being said
Think I'll now go
Back to bed.