I Should Be Sleeping

Instead I am eating cheese puffs and getting cheese powder on the keyboard as I type. I am not hungry, but I made the mistake of eating one, and now I can't stop myself.
I don't feel like sleeping because I know I will just have to wake up all the time during the night.
Last night I got up and got a big glass of cold water, and then fell asleep in bed with it in my hand. It spilled all over me and the bedding and the floor. I threw a towel at the wet mess, sort of half-heartedly and slept with my head at the foot of the bed (putting my face dangerously close to Dave's talon toenails) with my wet nightgown and comforter. Lovely.
I am listening to this really, really awful book on CD by Jane Greene, called The Other Woman. I bought it in the clearance bin at Books-A-Million. I listen to it in the car as I drive around town. It is really terrible. The plot is both non-existent and predictable, and I really hate the main character, Ellie. I am actually rooting for the Other Woman, which is her mother-in-law, who seems to have done nothing wrong but plan and pay for a huge wedding and offer to babysit her first grandson. Ellie is super ungrateful and immature and very possessive of her baby. You have to wonder what is wrong with people who don't/can't/won't let their children bond with other people. I guess they are really insecure. I am really hoping her husband leaves her and moves back in with his mother and she has to share custody. She is too whiny to bear.
But this book, I am only half way through the discs and I cannot imagine how the author is going to fill up the next half. It is seriously one of the worst books I have ever read. I can't stop listening to it though. It is far more entertaining than the radio. And it is read in this very precise, clipped British accent. The reader prounounces every syllable so carefully. I just am hypnotized by it. Jonathan loves it also. If I try to turn it off, he begs me to leave it on. He is probably learning how to curse in a British sort of way. At least it still sounds polite.
I adore British accents. I could listen to them talk about anything. So I guess that is what is keeping me going. I am also reading Running with Scissors, a funny and shocking memoir, which is a far better book, although it is so gross, I could never, ever play it on a CD in the car.