Sleep, Errands, Work, Maybe

It's 12.39 over here, noon, and surprisingly I'm up. And not only am I up, but I have managed to do a ton of stuff already. Perhaps a little unsurprising as I only came to JB this time around cos Mum was off for a reunion and she needed someone to babysit the dogs. Also, to wake up at the ungodly hour of 7 (7! I ask you!) and send her to the cathedral where she and her homegirls would be catching the bus to Malacca.

Of course my weird sleeping schedule has thrown everything a little out of whack. Yesterday at 11 when I was still deep in the throes of slumber (I had been up until about six in the morning, first, finishing Shawn Achor's The Happiness Advantage and secondly, inputting the Piper At The Gates of Dawn for my happiness blog) I got a call from Chubs. He wanted to know if I was going back. Sleepily, I murmured something like: Mmmmm, ahhh, yeah.

And he said, OK I'll follow you. I nodded into my pillow and agreed. And then fell fast asleep again after saying, OK in one hour, maybe two. I stumbled out of the room briefly to see my Dadda all dressed up. He said he needed to go get some money to pay the guys who fixed the air con. I forbade him to go walking anywhere (the moment he steps out of the house into the hot sun, he gets giddy and then laid up for like, a week) and emptied the contents of my wallet, which was just about enough to cover what he needed and went right back to bed.

To sleep, perchance to dream. And dream I did. Arnold was standing in our airwell. I stared and stared at him, rubbing my eyes. He looked younger and more well-cared for. Though how he could look so good when he must have run away from the shelter, which is far, far away, and made his way back home, I didn't know. I called my father out. "Dadda, come and see, is this really him?" and my father came out and said, yes, it is.

Deep deep sleep. The kind of sleep where you pinch yourself to see if the vision will go away and it doesn't.

So in the midst of all this sleep, I hear Ivan arriving. And he's asking Dadda, you mean she hasn't woken up yet?

And I stumble out of the room and say, no I was talking to Thomas on the phone and he was telling me his mother-in-law got robbed because they didn't have the dog at home.

And I get funny looks from both the father and the brother. Firstly, I do not speak to Thomas (a cousin). Secondly, he doesn't have a dog. Thirdly, his mother-in-law did not get robbed.

I say, I think I was dreaming.

And they say, yeah, most probably.

Dadda says, go eat, wash your face nicely and then go. So I do.

We take Chubs's car (which is, let's admit it, way more comfortable) and he drives the first half of the journey so I snuggle into my seat and fall fast fast asleep. Again.

Halfway through I notice that Chubs is popping the tic tac, a sure sign that he's falling asleep. The journey so far has been through torrential rains as Malaysia has decided it's had enough of a heatwave and the rains are making up for lost time. So I say, want me to take over?

And Chubs says, yes, we'll change at Ayer Keroh. Which is like, Malacca. So we stop at a service station over there, and make the switch.

Funnily enough, the moment I take over it's blue skies all the way. And we arrive in JB in very good time, as there is no jam past the toll (although there should be at this time, seeing as it's just after office hours) and we make it home with time to spare. The dogs go crazy and Mum stumbles out to open the gate smiling and saying, bloody fool lar, why couldn't you take a bit longer.

Because we're interrupting her Hindi soap marathon. (Chubs really interrupted it as he changed channels and watched the last part of The Last Samurai instead).I'm giddy from the drive as well as the lack of sleep and go upstairs and crash. Only to wake up and find Chubs is spritzing me with water. He wants to know what I want for dinner. And then to wake up to Mums bellowing out my name...come and eat, come and eat.

And then it's a packing extravaganza (she packs all of four outfits for one dinner because she can't decide between them) and then she switches off the light very determinedly (no Jenny, no reading, you go to sleep).

And I wake to find her puttering about until it's time to send her off. Chubs wakes up and drives. And her friends are so impressed by this minor feat of us sending my mother that they all stand around, smile and nod and tell her how lucky she is.

Unidentified friend of Mum's: Are you coming with us?

Me: No, we came from KL to feed the dogs.

Unidentified friend of Mum's: Oh yes, the dogs.

Our dogs are famous. They are the source of many excuses whenever my mother doesn't want to do something. She says, there's no one to feed the dogs. And just a few days ago, the one person she could depend on to do it when she was not here, passed away. It was all very sad.

After we sent Mums, it was still early - so off to Kerala Restaurant for appam for breakfast, then to Pasar Tani for the dog's food (and some of our food as well) and then to the post office to renew the Big M's road tax, and then back home to watch Prince of Persia (OK that was not planned, more of a coincidence really, and is Jake Gylenhaal the cutest thing since bulldog puppies or what?) and make the doggie's lunch.

They've eaten, Chubs is now out for lunch with his girlfriend (I asked him to bring me back the Mask of Zorro so I get to see Don Diego training Alejandro, sort of like Yoda training Luke, nahmean?) and I am sleepy. Wondering whether to read some and knock off or be good and transcribe the interview I did on Thursday and write the story. Or I could just watch reruns of the Good Guys.

Decisions, decisions.

Sleep, it is.