|this is not my date|
He's a chef and he's coming over to cook me dinner. Whenever I'm going to have company, I go into panic mode.
I've been up since four. Cleaning. Yep, panic cleaning. After I cleaned for about an hour I showered and tried to lay down and sleep again, but my mind was racing. Not just about tonight, but about my rewrite I'm doing, and a book store gig I have in March, and, and, and.
I fear I'm going to be a lousy date because of my lack of sleep. And it's not just today. I haven't slept well all week, and I hope it doesn't all catch up with me tonight and I fall asleep at the dinner table, my face in a plate full of Gnocchi. That would be bad. Very.
But if I do, at least i'll know my house was clean.
Wish me luck.