September 1. Day 244. Dropped the ball

Slobbering. Trying to fit something in its mouth that's far more than it can chew. Ball dropped. Sort of pathetic pleading look. Yep, that was both me and Cocoa at the dog park this afternoon. Staying up until nearly 4am to clear a load of paperwork will do that to a girl.
At times of extreme fatigue I revert to early childhood. Tired and cranky, prone to tears and tantrums somewhat impossible to console. And when over-tired, sleep won't come, just to add insult to injury. So while I may behave all childish I stress I am not a child. In fact, the things I am most likely to fight for are the very things children seem to resist with most venom. When I think of the flash points with a young person they seemed to be around the following
1) child did not want to go to bed
2) child was refusing to eat
3) child thought a bath was a seriously bad idea
4) child didn't want to clean his teeth.
That list right there contains the key things that separate children from adults (or indeed civilised society from savages which is much the same thing). I may be a slobbering mess but someone in there is a civilised person who appreciates the value of a nap. Now quiet. It's my bedtime.