Sleepless in September

As mentioned before, September kinda sucked.

It all started with a trip to the emergency room (AKA: Crappy Event #1). How did I hurt myself? Did I twist my ankle while running? Nope! Did I injure myself riding my new bike? That's a negative, ghost rider. Perhaps it was a more low-key activity than that, like burning myself while cooking? Closer, but it was actually from an activity waaayy more sedentary than that...

I was sleeping.

Or more like sleep walking. Now, may I ask, isn't sleep walking usually reserved for the under six sect? Or anyone who still sports footie pajamas and fears the Boogie Man? Apparently not, since this stressed-out teacher managed to do it during the second week of school. Anyway, I woke up about six feet from my bed from an intense pain comparable to having my head slammed by a car door. Repeatedly. The sound of me hitting the hardwoods had been so loud that it woke Dan up too, and he immediately helped me to the bed. Apparently, I had slept walked across the room, and then I either tripped or fell straight down on my head. And I had a giant goose egg to prove it. Three hours, a bag of frozen peas, and a quick emergency trip later, I went back to bed feeling much better, but still officially freaked that I had stress slept walked! I vowed that I would try to have a more peaceful third week of school, with less long days. I needed to chill out...

Two days later, however, I had to report to jury duty (AKA: Crappy Event #2). Now, usually jurors answer a few questions, drink the bad coffee, and are released. Me? I was picked for a murder trial!

The attorneys "thorough" selection process consisted of exactly three questions:
"Have you been a victim of a crime?"
"Do you think a man is innocent until proven guilty?"
"Do you have any problems putting a guilty man away?"

In my head, I was screaming, "Ask me if I'm stressed out! Ask me, 'Have you recently had a weird sleeping episode akin to something from Paranormal Activity?!'" Alas, they did not, and three questions later, I was juror number 12.

I'm not allowed to discuss anything about the case, but I'll just say that it was intense. The actual trial was just like t.v. (bloody articles, disturbing pictures, murder weapons.) The worst part, though? The jurors did not all agree, and it became a nasty scene. By the end of our three hours of deliberating, some people were literally screaming at each other. Let's just say that after an 11 hour day, I was exhausted but so rattled that I was not close to sleeping.

When my grandma called me a week later to tell me that her house had been robbed while she was at the beauty salon, I was done with the entire month of September. Almost all of the jewelry she had collected over the last sixty years had been stolen. She's so sweet and upbeat that she somehow ended up consoling me when I became a little teary over the phone. In fact, at one point she said, "It's going to be okay! At least I know what to ask for this coming up Christmas!"

Turns out grandma is right; it is all okay. I've been decompressing the past few weeks and getting together with friends for wine and vent sessions (turns out I was not the only person with a bad September!) I begrudgingly paid the $150 E.R. visit co-pay, thus making that damn ice pack the most expensive one in the history of the world. I have an amazing husband who had Thai food waiting for me when I trudged home from jury duty. My head is completely fine, there have been no more walking incidents, and grandma is actually finally considering a security system. Hallelujah.

Oh, and last night, for the first time in a while, I slept like a baby.

Pictures via here and here.