You know how I’m always saying it’s meant to be? No? Well then it’s clear you don’t read my blog enough. That’s okay, I forgive you. People get busy, things come up…anyway, trust me here. My motto is:
So here’s the thing: Recently I thought I’d be adopting another dog until his previous owner changed her mind and reclaimed Charlie.
Charlie
Shortly afterward, I fostered another cat. Nothing new there, right? He was foster #107.
So I’ve been in my fall purging state lately. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not bulimic. I enjoy food too much, as my thighs will attest. Here I go digressing again, something I’m rather adept at. That’s because I’m scatterbrained. I admit that and I own it. It’s who I am.
Hello. I’m Janet and I’m scatterbrained.
Anyway, back to purging. What I mean is I’m going through my garage and closets to rid myself of nonessential stuff I’ve accumulated over the years. That means I can discard pretty much everything I own. But instead I’m purging items I’m tired of in order to make room for more things I’ll tire of later. Continue reading
I don’t know about you but for me one of the least desirable aspects of getting longer in the tooth is lack of sleep.
Gone are the nights of 10-hour slumbers like in my teens. In my 20s-30s I often achieved a steady 9 hours. In my 40s-50s, 8 hours hit the spot. Ah, those were the days.
Now that I’m 60, my snoozing time lasts about as long as an Oliver Stone movie, generally just over 3 hours. I’m then awake for 2, followed by another hour or two of semi-consciousness. I tell ya, if I keep going like this, when I hit 70 the act of a prolonged blink will constitute a nice little nap.
I suppose it doesn’t help that I’m a night owl. Now don’t get me wrong; it’s not my fault. I blame my mom. Like my sister and me, she stayed up well past midnight, needing to force herself to sleep around 2:00 a.m. That doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for a visit from the Sandman, does it?
I know as we age the rumor is we don’t require as much sleep. I hope that’s true but still, I’d settle for a solid 5 hours. Not reaching that magical number definitely shows. Like, for instance, when I saw the photo of myself in my last blog. I was horrified at how old and tired I looked. When did THAT happen? I blame it on lack of sleep. Or better yet, my parents.
Uh…that would be a definite yes
But guess what? It turns out I’m not just arbitrarily blaming my mom and dad. That’s because I recently read about a study at the University of Leicester, Department of Genetics, that human sleep patterns go beyond preferences but are governed by genetics. AH HA!
In my case, obviously not
You may wonder how this was discovered. Or maybe you don’t. But I’ll tell you anyway because it’s pretty interesting. Turns out fruit flies share 75% of disease-causing genes with humans. Who knew? And that’s why scientists use fruit flies as proxies for people in many studies. Your welcome.
Ugly little suckers aren’t they?
Mixed in with all the mumbo-jumbo brainy people use in neurology publications, the gist of it is this: Feel free to blame your sleep patterns on your parents. Works for me!
All their fault
As you can imagine, sleep deprivation causes all sorts of awful repercussions, like a higher risk of motor accidents, an increase in fatal ailments, loss of sex drive and premature aging. Well, good day to you, too.
According to the Sleep Foundation, most adults need between 7-9 hours of sleep each night. I only know one adult who accomplishes that. Come to think of it, she doesn’t have many wrinkles (damn her) and she’s older than me. The skin under her eyes is like a Dyson vacuum — totally bagless, while mine resembles an old Electrolux with those long narrow bags.
They say it’s natural for some to be night owls while others are morning larks. But what about those of us who are late to bed and early to rise? What’s to become of us? But I guess that was answered two paragraphs ago…
Tell me about it
So unless I get more shut eye, my prognosis appears grim. The thing is, I don’t want to get hooked on sleeping pills and I find counting sheep boring but not sleep-worthy. What to do, what to do…
Oh, that’s right. I forgot…Blame my parents.
I’ve been thinking of doing something really stupid so somebody needs to stop me before I actually do it. You’re probably going to think I’m off my rocker and yes, I probably am. There. I admit it. So don’t hate me when I tell you I’m thinking of adopting another dog.
I know, I know. I’m perfectly aware that I already have 3 dogs, the Marin County limit, and 3 cats, so adding another to the mix makes no sense, right? But what can I say? I think in some way my pets actually choose me instead of the other way around.
Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying when I first saw my current pets they pointed a paw in my direction and said pick me, pick me! That would be awesome, but no. It’s more like I’m drawn to them by an unspoken vibe. Next thing I know, I’m driving home with something furry in the seat beside me.
Hey you. Yeah you. You’re mine so get over here
Not exactly what I meant
Did you know there are 7 hobbies that will make you smarter? Neither did I. Guess I’m not that smart. Therefore it might behoove me to bone up on these particular hobbies because, let’s face it, at some point our brain cells start diminishing about as rapidly as Matt Lauer’s hairline.
Anytime we learn a new skill or have new experiences, scientists say we create more neuron pathways in our brain, making our grey matter work better and faster. And who doesn’t like being better and faster? No one, that’s who.
Since we aren’t born with a given level of intelligence, we can always improve in the cranial region. My feeling is, the more neurons I have, the longer it takes before Alzheimer’s strangles my memories, devouring precious neurons like I devour chocolate. Not a pretty sight… Continue reading
Now Don't Get Me Wrong 