Helloooo, Mr Hyde

the setup:
my mom wakes up in the night. she'll wake up to go to the bathroom and normal stuff like that, and then she wakes up and has to come over to my side of the house for an advil. then an hour and a half later she's thirsty, then at 3 in the morning she wants cheerios. ok, so never does she do all those things in one night, but they are all common things for her.

usually my web-surfing and solitare playing goes into the wee hours . in fact, i haven't fallen asleep before 2:30 at all since the beginning of may. so much so that now i can no longer fall asleep before then if i try. which is annoying when i once in the while have to be somewhere the next morning at six, or whatever.

i usually have my door closed, and my lights off just for convenience- that way i can just put my computer on the floor and fall asleep when i finally do get tired, instead of having to get up and close my door and flip off my lights, thereby getting just enough adrenaline pumping to keep me from falling asleep for another hour. so usually if/when mom comes over thisaway in the middle of the night, she doesn't know i'm up.

the action:
but tonight, for some reason, i have my door open and lights on. i think it's cause i'm halfway thinking about packing for tomorrow morning, and haven't yet done the "i'm going to bed" stuff like get into pajamas and try to be tired. anyway.

a few minutes ago, mom came slogging out in half-sleep for an advil (she just got crowns, and has some freakish nerve pain off and on). i am reading through various blogs for fun, and have just read one talking about the Horatio Hornblower books by cs forester. mom likes those books, so i think, hey, i'll tell her about it.

so imagine me (hard to do, eh? shame i don't have a pic up to help you) bounding up the hallway to said half-asleep mom, and just as she realizes i'm there, and who i am, and such, i say to her (in an energetic voice, with absolutely no lead-in) "hey mom guess what winston churchill liked the horatio hornblower books!" being accosted like this can have a disquieting effect on a recently wakened person. i don't suggest doing something like this.

she started, made a horrified expression, and said "are you INSANE?! what are you doing UP?! go to BED!" i tried to tell her about winston churchill and his love for the seafaring adventure series, but i don't think it sank in. we'll see what she says in the morning. once she left me standing in the hallway and went back to bed, i stopped by the bathroom to turn off the lights i had left on in there, and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

HOLY COW I LOOK LIKE A PSYCHOPATH! apparently, sitting for hours craning my neck and staring into the unholy glow of the computer does something to my appearance.

after sitting back and thinking for a few minutes, i just realized what i looked like. i looked like martin short in the movie Clifford. you know, the part where his uncle says he's afraid to look him in the eyes because he's afraid he might see little pinwheels turning. except it's funny in the movie.

i guess the hours of communion with my computer bring out my personal Mr Hyde. or my Clifford. whichever.