If one more person tells me I look tired, I am going to think about doing really really terrible things to them.
For instance, repeatedly trying to open my car door at the exact moment they try and unlock it. They will click the button over and over, look at me confused as to why I’m not getting in the car, and then sigh. It’s still locked. Oops?
Or or or, for the rest of all time when I have a question for them, I will precede it by asking if I can ask them that question. “Can I ask you a question?”
Better yet, I will precede every insult with “no offense.” No offense, but I notice you too are looking rather tired…You son of a fucking bitch.
So there I was sweet talking her into a small room to experience a close encounter with me. I found myself undressing and slipping her silhouette slowly onto my own. While every piece of her seemed to fit with mine, I suddenly realized…she had a zipper.
By her, I am referring to the most perfect black dress in the history of ever. After explaining this to my roommate Connor, he was like, “Do you always sweet talk your clothing into the dressing room?”. I was like, “No, sometimes I take them straight to my closet if ya know what I’m saying.”
Connor: “You buy them without trying them on?”
Savannah: “So you do know what I’m saying.”
Now this most perfect black dress in the history of ever had a different kind of zipper. No no no, this was not your average zipper. Rather than zip zip zipping all the way up the side like zippers are so often designed to do, this zipper had no desire of the sort. This zipper wanted to stay put and no amount of pulling, sucking it in, or pushing the fabric together was going to change its mind.
Now assuming most dresses are not made to be one side-less, I recognized the worst of all fates. The dress did not fit. I left the store without my dress and only one thing on my mind…Blondie.
I knew deep down inside that the blonderexic girl who stole the heart of my fire whisperer would have fit into that tiny black dress, yet I could not. This only inspired like 20 related pep talks.
Do you think Blondie ends her jogs because she’s too tired? No, she keeps fucking jogging until people like me call her blonderexic behind her back.
Do you think Blondie has that second helping of ice cream when she is upset? No, she trades it for a salad and then goes jogging again.
Do you think people tell Blondie she looks tired? (I swear if I find that dead horse, I’m going to beat it.) No, because she jogs so often, she is immune to being tired. That and she is probably getting a good night’s rest in the arms of…well you know.
If there is one thing I’m sure of, it’s that Blondie probably never bases her pep talks on me. Although I know my thoughts aren’t exactly healthy, I literally jogged that extra mile…then I finished my ice cream because I earned it when jogging the extra mile. I earned it right?
The truth is, I am tired. It all suddenly makes sense why Sleeping Beauty was my favorite Disney movie.
In fact, when I was about 6 years old, my mom was taking a nap and refused to put that movie on. She had always told me to call 9-1-1 in case of an emergency and so…I took her advice. If not getting to watch Sleeping Beauty wasn’t an emergency, then I just didn’t know what was.
I told whoever was on the other line the situation at hand. To my dismay, they asked to speak with my stubborn, good-for-nothing mom. I was like…But wait…there is bad parenting going on in this household! Can’t you see? The man’s trying to hold me down.
Mama bear was mad, but fuck, so was I. Hath no fury. We all look back at this story and laugh. When I say we, I mean she laughs. Bitch should have put my movie in!
Take away the sleeping. Take away the beauty. Hello, Savannah here.
Everyone keeps telling me I should get more sleep. I am always like…Sorry, I gave it up for lent and never looked back. I always feel like what they are really trying to tell me is…”I noticed you are not wearing any eyeliner today.” I know this is what really distinguishes me from looking awake versus tired because days I wear eyeliner no one says these horrible things.
While working late last night, my primary reason for being so sleepy, I ended up talking to a coworker from another country. I had always found him to be a little repetitive and annoying, but that quickly changed.
Lying on the desk before us, was a newspaper clipping of our weekly horoscopes. After reading my own horoscope, he was like, “Those things are so stupid. They could apply to anyone,” . I quickly asked him his birthday to which he responded he didn’t care. I was like, “NO. WHAT IS YOUR BIRTHDAY?” (in a very low, commanding tone). He hesitantly informed me he was a Sagittarius. After reading his horoscope aloud (a must when reading horoscopes), he asked me, “What is rut?”. His horoscope had suggested he was in a rut and needed to work on getting out of it. I was like…When you don’t have sex for a really long period of time? In other words, me.
I explained to him what being in a rut really meant and he was like, “See?! Anyone could be in a rut!” and I was like, ‘No…correction..YOU, Sagittarius are in a rut and only for this one weekly horoscope…understand?!” I started to feel myself getting angry because he was obviously suggesting I was in a rut. Was he not?!
Aquarius’ do not have ruts.
After our fun banter over zodiac signs and him saying I looked tired, my tests on him had still somehow resulted inconclusive. I knew I needed to test him further in order to make my ultimate decision about him.
I had just the test.
I whipped out my phone and quickly looked up the picture of a dress I’m thinking about buying. Yes, to answer your question, there is almost always a dress I am thinking of buying. I interrupted him doing his homework to ask him what he thought of the dress.
With almost no hesitation he said, “Good dress. Look good on you.” and immediately went back to his homework. There was no question about it.
He had won my heart.
My coworker passed the dress test with flying colors. With two simple statements, he had won my heart. At the end of the night, he even shut off all the lights at work because he didn’t want me to have to do it being that I looked so tired. I am not altogether certain what swooning means, but when he did that, I’m pretty sure I swooned.
So yeah, I am tired. I am tired from working late, jogging extra miles, fighting with little black dresses, and…from not sleeping.
I am in search of a sharp spindle on which I can prick my finger and fall to many hours of uninterrupted sleep. If true love’s kiss happens to awaken me…so be it.