When I was a kid, going to bed was easy: I said my prayers, kissed my parents and called it a night. Going to bed now is absurdly complex. This became clear to me several nights ago when I wanted to get to bed before midnight because I had an early flight in the morning.
I had been spreading mulch all day, so I took a shower, flossed and brushed, and then, because I am over 40, I applied the moisturizer that my dermatologist insists I use to avoid being wrinkled and puffy. Since I am wrinkled and puffy even with moisturizer, it scares me to think of how I would be without it, so I follow his instructions. It was 10:10.
I was packing when my younger brother called. I told him I couldn’t talk long because I had an early flight, but while we talked I left my suitcase open which gave the black cat time to roll on my white shirt while the orange cat napped on my black pants. I shooed them out of the suitcase and, annoyed, I got the lint roller. It was 10:45.
My partner was also out of town so I had to lock up the house myself. First I cajoled the inside cats to come in from the back porch, which annoyed them, and then I let the dog out. I also needed to put out the outside cat, but I could not find him. Too late, I remembered I had not closed my suitcase, so I went back to the bedroom and discovered that the outside cat, who is gray, was sleeping in the suitcase on my clean clothes. I picked him up and put him on the back porch for the night, which annoyed him. It was 11:15.
As I grabbed the lint roller (again), I heard a large splash, and knew that the dog had gone for one of her midnight swims. I rushed to get her out of the pool but neglected to shut the back door behind me so the inside cats went back out and the outside cat went back in. While I got the cats organized, the wet dog rolled in the fresh mulch. Now she would need a bath. It was 11:30.
Twenty minutes later the dog was clean but I was filthy, so I took another shower, locked the doors, turned off the lights, turned on the burglar alarm and went into the bedroom. That’s when I heard the dog give an urgent little yelp and I realized that although she had gone swimming she had not done her nightly #1. That particular yelp means that there is no time to lose, so I ran and opened the back door, which set off the alarm, freaking out the cats. I ran to turn off the alarm, slipped in what I hoped was water, and called the alarm company to tell them NOT to send the police. During my absence the dog jumped back in the pool.
By 12:30 I had dried the dog and soothed the cats, so I locked the doors, turned on the alarm, denied myself the cocktail that I richly deserved and got into bed. Almost immediately I heard the chime signaling an incoming text message; it was from my brother who knows how compulsive I am. His message was brief: “Doors locked?”
Cursing, I got up again and checked that the doors were still locked, which of course they were. I texted my brother: “YES!” and got back to bed at 1:10. I was nodding off when I got another text message. “Are you sure?”