Tired? Me? Moi?

As I wrote yesterday, I was planning to get to bed early. I'm a person who needs sleep and lots of it, and being up wicked late two nights in a row meant Don't Push Your Luck Tonight. So I logged off and went in to the kitchen to just tidy up a little bit before getting ready for bed. I wasn't even going to try to "get anything else done", because I know what I'm like when I get too tired. I can get very cranky when I'm tired (stop laughing, mother), and that doesn't lead to the efficient execution of to-do list items anyway, so why try, right?

The thing is, I usually get gradually more and more tired: I see it coming, and have time to stop Doing and get resting, so to speak. Last night I was, suddenly and without warning, So Extremely Tired that I should have been in bed with the lights out five minutes ago. Since, obviously, I wasn't, I had a startling, cat-scattering hissy fit meltdown over nothing much, then got ready for bed very, very quietly* (I wasn't really meeting my own eyes in the bathroom mirror).

* And it may be a coincidence, but I have a slight sore throat today. Am I coming down with a bit of a thing, or did I actually yell at the alarm clock that much last night when it wouldn't do what I told it to? How embarrassing would that be? I don't think it is from yelling, actually; I didn't really yell that much, that I should still have any ouch tonight. One of my coworkers said today that she recently had a sore throat, just a sore throat, for four days, so I'll hold out hope that this won't develop into anything more. Cross fingers.

I know I hadn't had enough sleep, but still, it was kind of weird. I guess you add stress to the mix, and who knows what will happen? Money is rather tight Chez Cat Hair lately, and I find it supremely irritating to try and be good when all I want to do is buy books, for heaven's sake. I mean, it's not like I want to buy drugs (at least not in the legal sense, though they are my drug of choice, along with chocolate), or guns, or ... or nuclear weapons. Books! That most innocent (well, the ones I buy) and literate of pastimes!

And instead, I find myself saying, "Well, yes, Jasper Fforde is in town promoting the new book in the Thursday Next series, and of course you want to own it eventually, and of course, you'd like to see him read from it, but can you afford to buy it right now, paying full price, plus the $5 they're charging to see him (thanks a lot, Brookline Booksmith, that little practice goes right up my nose), when you just bought Harry Potter, and you had to have the Harry Potter book on tape, too, and the next Stephenie Meyer is about to come out and don't you want that a little more than the Fforde right now?"

I hate having to weigh these options. In truth, I want them all. But I am marginally more eager to read Eclipse than First Among Sequels, plus I was irritated with the idea of being charged to hear the author read, since I can't help feeling that buying the book should be the price of admission. But whatever, since I'm not going (well, since it was tonight, obviously).

Stephenie Meyer is going to be in Burlington in September, and B&N isn't charging anything. (I'm just saying.) I'll be there. With, no doubt, dozens if not hundreds of shrieking teenage girls, but I don't care. I like her writing quite a lot, and I want to tell her so. Great story about her here, by the way.

And of course, the Yarn Harlot, Stephanie Pearl-McPhee, is in Burlington (but at Borders), one week from today (woo-hoo). Last time I saw her, the first time I saw her, I had to go to the Big Apple, but this time she's in my own neighborhood, so to speak; it's very exciting.

I am getting spoiled by all these authors! And I love it!