Dream For A Risotto Maker

[When sleep patterns become chaotic...after John and I quickly, efficiently and without bickering put together the basic bed frame we finally bought at Mancini's on Van Ness (ending five years of boxspring-on-floor-retro-college madness), I collapsed and found myself unable to drag myself from Morpheus' arms for over two hours yesterday afternoon. The Boyfriend dragged me down to Macy's and Crate and Barrel to do a little nonessential gay kitchen-porn accoutrement shopping (we are now so set for the return of the Summer of the Margarita), and after pounding a little bottle of caramel frappuccino, I completed my first recipe from the Naked Chef's new cookbook. (Post-Risotto With Shrimp And Peas Notes: Risotto is delicious, and not too hard, but making it requires a lot of fussy attention. I never thought peeling and deveining two dozen shrimp would be the zone-out part of doing a recipe.)]

[Yes, we are charter members of the Lusting After Jamie Oliver Club. The book is written in the same slangy style as his show, which can be a little distracting when you need to know NOW how much mashed peas to add to the arborio and when, but if John's mmmm of bliss upon the first forkful wasn't made up, I won't need a Matrix-style download to say "Whoa...I Know Risotto."]

[So, of course I couldn't get to sleep. After staring at the ceiling for an hour and a half listening to John doing that sweet little quiet snore that says he's really deeply asleep, I finally gave up, went into the living room and finished the Sunday paper; I rarely read the Chronicle book review, but had just made it all the way thru when Patrick dragged his clubby ass back in at about 2 A.M., and then I knew it was time to try again to find sleep. This morning, I was so sluggish as he was getting ready for work, I could barely lift my head from the pillow to kiss him goodbye.]

[Insomnia isn't usually one of my problems. I do occasionally suffer from 4:30 A.M. stress attacks, but right now, there isn't a lot to stress about (but classes start today, hey hey!), so all the random thoughts that I would normally mix into dreams just cascade tediously, running horizontally across my mind's movie screen like the opening credits to Psycho. Limbo time is over, time for real life to start again.]

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