There IS a way...

Lifting a technique from The Bloggess, who naturally didn't invent it but who makes me laugh regularly thanks to the way she re-tells absurd exchanges with her husband Victor like this one on her blog about the allure of dead mice, I would like to take this opportunity to re-tell a conversation last night between me and my Victor -- that is, Joe.  In many ways, Joe functions in my stories (read: my life) the way Victor does in The Bloggess's, except because I'm biased I'm sure Joe is a lot foxier.

Note: it's clear that I'm currently laughing my way through The Bloggess's book, Let's Pretend This Never Happened, since that entire paragraph and this Note are pretty much totally inspired by how she writes.  Another way to say that is that I'm totally copying her.  But it's really hard not to, since I do think she's super-funny and, since I heard her read from her book last Friday, now it's hard to stop.

So as you know if you've been reading me the last couple of days, I have total spring fever, am outside in the garden as much as possible, and am especially OCD just now about bees.  Last weekend, with the exception of hearing The Bloggess read (which did happen in the company of friends made through beekeeping, as it happens), was all bees pretty much all day, either in terms of what I was doing or what I was thinking about.

Also you should know that I am pretty sleep-deprived.  I don't blame my Fuck Yeah Early-Early Wake-up Time, which I realize is made easier by the fact of my injury which makes being in bed so uncomfortable that most nights I am longing for it to be time to get up.  Today, for example, I got up at 3:30 because I was awake and sick of trying to get comfortable.  Might as well get up since standing and sitting are so much less painful.  But, the thing is, that really, really I need sleep.  In the ideal, I could use a daily nap in the afternoon, that time of day I'm not so crazy about anyway, but the job interferes with that, so I keep motoring on 5-6 hours of sleep a night, not because I want to or it's best for me but just because that's how it is.

Last night, Joe was spreading some of the honey we harvested on Sunday afternoon onto a slice of bread.  Honey is undeniably messy stuff.  I think I finally got all of the harvest honey out of my hair on Monday morning, though I'm thinking that when I run out of fancy-pants Oribe hair products, maybe I'll figure out how to accomplish my 'do with honey instead.

So Joe calls out to me from the kitchen.  I was in another room.  OK, I was on the toilet if you must know, reading a book.  

Joe: If we whipped the honey, it wouldn't drip and run all over the place when you're eating it, right?

Ariane: [silence, reading book.]

Joe: Um, I said, couldn't we whip the honey? Do you know how?

Ariane: [slowly, distracted] Uh, yeah, there is a way...

Joe: What?

Ariane: There is a way, I just don't know what it is yet.

Joe: Thanks for that.  Super fucking helpful.

Ariane: Wait, what?

Because apparently I didn't say the "I just don't know what it is yet" part of my statement above out loud, although until this morning when I asked for confirmation, I thought I had.  I just left it dangling with "There is a way."  Twice. Which is proof of how exhausted I am. OK, yes, it's true, I was also reading a book and in that other room, but still, normally I can muster a little more.

I suppose it's also true that "There is a way, I just don't know what it is yet" is a pretty great response to almost anything.  On one hand, Joe has it totally right, that it's really not super fucking helpful, but on the other hand, it's a great way to let yourself off the hook when you don't know something, either something factual or just what to do next.  Even though I uttered it in a distracted stupor, I'm keeping it.

That is, if I can remember it.  But that's why I'm writing here, so that I can stumble back upon it later, like a little treasure, like a little bit of honey stuck in my hair, holding things together when I'm so sleep-deprived that I barely, barely can.

XX

Comments

[Jen @ Renaissance Ma'am]

You could start marketing that product, and call it "Honey 'do."

Whipping honey seems like it would get even more everywhere. In your hair and worse!

I know I'm not very commenty lately, but I have been reading everything. :)