I’ve had way too much coffee today. Way too much. Probably half a pot or more at lunch, then two more cups at dinner. I’ve been wired all day long. Buzzing, practically glued to the ceiling. Now it’s two in the morning, and my brain is shutting down–fast. Can. Not. Process. Maybe I can keep this short and “not too deep” so my brain won’t have to do too much–uh–what’s the word for what brains do?–oh yeah–thinking.

This might be harder than I–uh–uh–thought.

I’ve been both talking and listening all day long. This afternoon I had lunch with a former dance student, and we carried on for three hours. Then I was on a business call for an hour and a half, then I went out to eat with my parents and my aunt, who drove in from Tulsa to see my mom before she has her mastectomy next week. Then my friend Matt came to town for dance lessons tomorrow, and now he and I are at Bonnie’s house, since she’s hosting us for the night so we can dance here tomorrow. Anyway, it’s been a lot of catching up. It’s been good–great, really–but my body and mind are so confused. We haven’t had this much social interaction in one day in for-ev-er.

The room I’m staying in at Bonnie’s is full of Christmas paraphernalia. On the bedpost is an elf with bendable arms and legs that Bonnie named Festus. Matt and I have been doing generally inappropriate things with him, putting him in yoga poses like Downward Facing Dog and The Plow. Currently Matt has Festus wrapped around the bedpost like a pole dancer. I don’t have a picture to show you, but it’s like he’s hanging on by just his butt cheeks, his arms spread wide.

On the dresser are several little elves from the 1950s with these creepy little smiles on their faces. Apparently they’re called Knee Huggers because they’re hugging their knees. (Genius.) I said, “It looks like they’re all waiting for a colonoscopy–and are way too excited about it.”

Just a little bit ago Bonnie pulled out her collection of fur coats for show-and-tell and dress-up. Matt tried on Bonnie’s longest coat, and we decided he looked like a king from Game of Thrones.

Then Bonnie tried on this sort of white/grey number, I guess the first fur coat she ever bought. She said, “It came from a silver fox.”

I said, “That coat came from Anderson Cooper?!”

Hot, grey-headed, older men are called silver foxes, Mom.

This silliness is about all I’m capable of at the moment. I’m seriously fried. Bonnie and Matt have been telling stories, and I’m only half-registering them. Now it’s four-thirty in the morning, and I’ve absolutely got to end this. I told Matt, “I don’t know what to say.” He said, “Say, ‘Goodnight–I’m tired’ and end it.” I said, I’ve never done that before.” He said, “Well, first time for everything.” And despite the fact that all my blogs have an “insight” or “lesson,” I’m about three minutes away from taking his advice. Maybe some days don’t have to be complicated or deep. But I do know this–despite how tired my brain is, I’ve loved every minute of today–spending time with people I love, listening to their stories, telling them mine, and being silly. So yeah–Goodnight–I’m tired–My brain is empty, but my heart is full.