My two polysomnograms have demonstrated that my nighttime REM sleep is disturbed, both fragmented and lacking. So if my sleepiness during the day and ability to get to REM quickly while napping are part of the same REM abnormality, could snoozing in the morning also be more of the same? I always dream in the nine minutes between hitting the button and the sound of the alarm, and I often continue to dream the same dream from one snooze period to the next. So I’m clearly getting REM during those periods. I think about extreme daytime sleepiness (EDS) as being a desire on the part of my brain for REM sleep; what if my seeming compulsion to keep snoozing long past my scheduled wake-up time is my brain milking this period of near-guaranteed REM for all it’s worth? My autonomic need for REM overriding my conscious awareness that it’s time to get up?

It’s certainly worth exploring.

Here are some of the things that have happened since I last blogged:
1. I worked dramaturgy on Much Ado About Nothing.
2. I presented a big old program at the conference for my professional organization.
3. We visited Mike’s parents.
4. My meds stopped working.
5. I gained, like, fifteen pounds.
6. I felt like myself again.
7. We went on vacation with the Hoffmans.
8. I had two root canals.
9. We got a dog.

There’s been all sorts of other stuff in among the high (and low) points, but that covers the bulk of what’s been going on.

So now that we have this clever, clever dog, I’ve decided to spin off the knitting portion of what’s here to my other domain — hipknitic.com — and give Stuff and Things a different spin. There will be new designs in both places, so keep watching this space (if there are any of you left watching) for updates on the renovation.

However, I did go through my entire stash this last weekend and cataloged and took pictures of it for Ravelry (Ravelry users check it out here). Among lots of other stuff, I have about eight sweaters’ worth of yarn, not including a couple of “ugh” projects that could potentially be frogged and harvested, so while I’m admonishing myself for lusting after new projects, I can at least take solace in the knowledge that I don’t have to spend any money on yarn for a while…

When might you be available for such a meeting?

Totally fun, except that it’s past my bedtime every night, and I am exhausted. These crazy theater people live their lives a good two or three hours later than I do, and it’s starting to take its toll. And I knew it, too: I’ve had this experience before, and know what it does to me, but Beatrice wouldn’t let me stay away. Thankfully table work is over next week, and it will be another couple of weeks before I’m called back to be on book and check the accuracy of the text, which means a couple of weeks to try to catch up sleep before my schedule gets all thrown off again.

The problem with all these wonderful entertainments is that they’re resource hogs. Between the cost of the phone bill and the cable and internet bill, we could be fully funding an IRA. And the time! Sheesh! In that regard, TiVo is a double-edged sword. Back in the day, if you had to be out when your favorite show was on, you either taped it or not, watched it or not. But TiVo always records it and keeps it in a list, a list that grows and grows faster than you have time in which to watch it. It’s nice to know there’s almost always something worth watching when I feel like sitting down in front of the TV, but there are some shows I feel like I could let go of, only when they’re in the Now Playing list, it’s hard to ignore them. So I feel like I have to “catch up” on TV, and it takes on some of the same character as catching up on laundry or weeding. Not so fun.

And then there’s all the online stuff. Ravelry. Facebook. Flickr. This blog, even. I feel pretty strongly about maintaining an online presence, both for personal reasons and because it’s important for me to keep up professionally, and I want to be a consistent updater. But when there’s been a full day at work and I’m already tired and there’s a ton of TV to watch, me sitting at the computer is highly unlikely.

Some days, I just want to chuck it all — TV, video games, computer, everything. I have this utopian vision of being able to read and listen to music more, going to bed earlier, getting back to a routine, feeling like my responsibilities are under control. I hate feeling like I’m in a time crunch, and the next month or so is going to be pretty stressful on that front (more to come on that). So what can give? If the writers’ strike keeps going, I’m hoping it’s TV, but if the Now Playing list starts to stack up again… I don’t know.

It’s a hair lower than our old coffee table, so it’s a little more comfortable for me to put my feet up on it, and it has more mass than the old table, which makes the scale better for our living room. The best part though?

The secret drawers on either end, one for me and one for Mike. Mine has plenty of space for all the knitting stuff that used to sit on top of the coffee table.

The little tote bag on the right was a gift last Christmas from my friend Katie, and it’s the perfect size for my knitting needles. She also made the little fabric bin that’s currently holding a sock project. Pattern books, my knitting tool kit, my new favorite knitting tool (the extremely fabulous Polder Pocket Scale, perfect for measuring how much yarn is left in a skein) — it all fits like it was born to be in there. I love it.

Then Mike had the idea: art. We would buy a piece of art for each anniversary. We would live with these pieces in our home and see them every day and remember where we bought them and which year of our marriage they commemorate. Buying art together also required us to acknowledge and honor each other’s aesthetic taste by looking for pieces we both loved.

Here’s our third anniversary art:

We bought it at A.T. Hun Gallery in Savannah, Georgia during our fall vacation. We saw several pieces there that we were interested in, and although we each liked this one at first, we bypassed it and continued to look around. Each of us kept coming back to it — it has surprising depth and a subtle sense of motion — and we finally realized that it was the piece.

• My anniversary is around the corner.
• The joy of furniture with hidden storage.
• Simplicity versus plugging in.
• Is there any way I can become independently wealthy in the next few months?
• My excuses for not blogging are about to get much, much better.