That makes me look like a bit of an idiot. But oh well. Spouseman is at a Scout Camp, and I'm not quite ready to start my abandoned female ritual of stress-sewing. It's only fun when you start a project at 11:30! So that when things do not go as planned, you are sufficiently crazy and willing to start chopping fabric and tearing seams erratically!(Still want me to teach you to sew, Gurrbonzo?)
Anyway, the sewing bit is the perfect segue into my little Friday Night Anecdote. Here we go.
Once upon a time, I was staying up late to sew using a pattern I had borrowed from my friend, kept for weeks, and had yet to try. Dan, being the 8 year old he secretly is, had already gone to bed. (He has been trying our entire marriage to convert me to his 9pm to 6 am sleep schedule.)
I decided I needed some company while I sewed. Being caught up on all my trashy television, and having watched all my Jane Austen novel adaption films recently, I decided to watch Medium. My mother watches Medium while she sews, so I figured I would follow tradition and watch/listen to some blonde chick solve mysteries while I solved the mystery of the blind stitch.
I watched a few episodes, everything was going well, until I realized something. Medium was officially creeping me out. No one told me Medium is scary as hell! It never seemed scary when my mother watched it at 2 in the afternoon in broad daylight! Holy shit! Did that ghost just gouge out that girl's eyeballs????FREAK.
I decided to keep sewing. At this point it, it was 1:00 am, but I told myself that if I just finished the pattern, my productivity would uncreep my brain, and I could go to bed.
By 3:00 am, I had made two completely awesome bags, and had completely lost my mind. I desperately wanted to go to bed, but I was convinced that ghost-man eye-gouger was hiding in the hallway from my sewing table to my bedroom.
I could not convince myself to walk down the hall. I also convinced myself that I could not turn off the lights, (those girls only got their eyes gouged out in the dark). Plus, Dan was going to wake up in 3 hours anyway. Maybe I could just wait out the night...
Or, I could call my husband repeatedly on my cell phone until he woke up, demand that he walk down the hall to retrieve me, escort me past my caffeine-sewing-Medium fabricated delusions of eye-gouger man, and take me to bed.
I'll let the audience decide which option I picked.