Randomness from the mind of an insomniac

Oh am I tired, so very tired. I haven't had a good night sleep in days, months, years! Actually, it's been a couple months I'd say. My mother's arriving in Brussels in a couple hours so that's the excuse I'm making for waking up at least 10 times last night.

As my boss said, if you're overtired, you're not tired anymore. It's true in a way. Once you pass that point of total fatigue you just enter a zone where you function on an extremely low level and can't leave the house without under eye concealer.

But that's not the point of this post. In fact, I'm not sure if there is one single point because there are many things my Franco-American overtired brain has been pondering:

• I find the oxymoronic site of people smoking outside bar-tabac hysterical. It just makes me laugh that people can't even smoke where they buy their cigarettes
• I saw nuddie shots of Mrs. Nicolas Sarkozy. It made me laugh because she's obviously had her nose done. But also because it made me wonder how Americans would react to seeing their president's wife naked. I mean, is it worse than knowing the president had an affair?
• Suzanne is speaking lots of English again and it's words she's never said before like doggie, cat and bread, the latter ALWAYS having been in French. She's even gone back to saying waleau. I'd like to know what's in her brain.
  
• It's flu season and that means lots of sick leave. I love knowing that my doctor - who I haven't been to for my bad cold because I've already been there twice this month - would give me a week off to recover if I went to see him. I don't mean that he'd take advantage of the system, but that he'd see that coming thrice in one month is excessive so that I'm obviously overtired. And yes, he would also bissous me even with the flu or a stomach virus.
• We finally drank champagne! Yes, we finally have heat at the 'pit. Jerome thinks we'll be moved in in 2 months of course he hasn't quite jumped at sending our notice to our current landlord which makes me think that in the back of his head, he's knows I'm right to be cautious.
• And last but not least, my husband is forcing me to go to a hammam to have some me time. Isn't that terrible of him? I hope he also forces me to go out to dinner and to the movies while my mother's here to babysit. Oh, why can't he just take charge more often? Or should I be asking, why don't I let go more often?

Time for a nice English tea and then I'll throw some clothes on and be off to hit the famous ring de Bruxelles where I hope not to meet any voiture fantome (ie a car going the wrong way on the terribly marked Belgian highways).