December 4, 2010
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I’ve been up for two hours.
illustration by Belinda ChenI’ve grown so accustomed to sleeping with the lights on, or the TV. When C stays over he turns everything off before he goes to bed (which, I suppose, is normal). It inevitably leads to my waking before dawn.
I lie in bed while my mind races through the silence. It roams unchecked by distraction, free to take any shape in the dark. I start to think about the landlord and what to do about the heat. I think about work. I think about my depressingly unformed future and dad and bills and Christmas is coming up so fast. I still haven’t put up the fruit cakes and they will not be anywhere boozy enough if I don’t do that Now. I should see dad next weekend. I should call him – is it too early? When’s the last time I paid the phone bill? If they lay me off at the end of March I should make sure to try to pay things well in advance. I should do that Now.
I lie still for a while and pretend I might sleep. Eventually the cat comes and lies next to me, purring. He likes having someone awake as his own night winds down. I crawl out of bed, shiver, put on my slippers. If it’s before seven I go into the office and work; after, i put on coffee.
Now it’s eight and I hate that I’m up, but the laundry opens in an hour so I may as well start my day.
g.
Comments (2)
entirely typical after a certain age. the best way to do it is to wake up at 3 or 4 or 5, putter around for an hour, half awake, then go back down for some good ol’ REM…before it all begins again. it may seem cruel, but such is the way of the wild.
‘course it doesn’t always work that way…
Nothing vexes me quite like being unable to sleep. I usually keep some kind of noise playing, too – most often, I’ll put in a movie and let it play into the night. There’s something sort of nice about having the morning to myself, though – at least until it gets infuriating.
h.