Really? CSS (Climbing Sheet Syndrome) at 4 a.m.? I thought I
was going to lose my mind this morning. I am not sure why it is always so annoying but there is
something about feeling the cotton blanket next to my feet instead of the cool,
smooth sheet that drives me crazy. That cotton blanket might as well have been
sandpaper. I flipped and I flopped but I just refused to get up and fix the
situation by re-making my bed. I kept trying to push the sheet back down to the
bottom of the bed, sort of like running in place, only while on my side …and in
bed.
The longer I flip flopped, the madder I got and the more I “treaded
sheet” the more awake I became. Two hours later I was wide awake, irritated and
suffering second degree blanket burns on my feet. Let me just say that if you
ever suffer from CSS, just get up and and re-make the bed; it’s the only way. As
my temper and heart rate climbed it hit me that I had just treaded sheet for
two hours and that was going to count for my cardiovascular work for the day.
As comforting as knowing that cardio was behind me, I still
couldn’t relax. There was just so much noise , so much noise coming from the
kitchen. I could hear my name over and over again. I knew where it was coming from but I was
trying to ignore it. Before long, I had to get up and answer .
You see, yesterday my dad’s church had a dinner-on-the-
ground. Last night, my dad dropped of
the “go-box” he had created, filled with deserts from the church ladies. All
were holy-made (homemade by church ladies) and my selection was a fat oatmeal raisin
cookie, a piece of toasted coconut pie and a couple of slices of Orange Supreme
cake. It doesn’t really matter if it is Lemon Supreme, Apricot Supreme, Orange
Supreme, etc. but it is not a proper southern church dinner-on-the-ground-
unless one of the members of the Supreme family is there. Those blessed items
from the church were calling my name from out of the dark. I could hear them,
calling. I tried to ignore the calling
but when you have blessed items from the church, prepared by holy hands calling
you out in the dark of the night, you had better answer the call. I answered
the call. It was like a bucket of flavored sugar and butter, divine. I’m no expert but I think there is some
sainthood that needs to be handed out to some of the women at my dad’s church. All of this
made for one long sugar-coma day but all in all, I feel blessed. Plus, I
think I kind of liked getting my cardio in early.
