Friday, March 17, 2006
I can't sleep. Well, I was asleep and woke up and can't get back into sleep mode. So here I am at the computer in the middle of the night reading LJ and wondering if I'll be able to sleep a couple more hours before I have to get up and work. Probably not. I'm in reading and writing mode and sleep mode is offline for the nonce.
The moon is a glaring white disk in the black night sky criss-crossed with twisted black branches just like in The Nightmare Before Christmas. Looks like a backdrop instead of the real thing. Some night owl U-Hauled past the house a few minutes ago, appearing briefly in the orange sodium vapor light at the corner and dissolving into the darkness after he turned. Only Venus winks in the distance, a single bright pinpoint of light in the black.
I can't understand why I'm unable to get back to sleep. Things are going so well for me right now. The week has been full of surprises and opportunities and the rekindling of excitement and amorous possibilities. Things haven't been this good in ages. Maybe that's the problem: everything is going good and I can't believe it. Someone could die, someone I like. Someone could land a plane in the sunroom and keep me from working so I'd have to finally do the laundry. Someone could tell me it's all a dream like Bobby Ewing the season he came back from the dead via the steamy shower. Or maybe I'm just anxious because I'm putting down deep roots and painting the living room this weekend (and, yes, finally doing the laundry). Or maybe it's all just nothin' more than a reason to get up out of a warm bed where I rested happily in Morpheus's arms and the usual sounds and smells of this hour of the morning I'm missing intruded on the peace and harmony of a normal Friday. Or could I just be tired and unable to find escape from deciding not to live and work as a journalist in Antarctica for seven months and the toe-tapping, foot jiggling, antsy and can't sit still eternity of waiting to be enfolded once again in my lover's arms.
Maybe I should just crawl back between the now cold sheets, take matters into hand, and drift back to more exotic shores where I can cadge a couple more hours of erotic bliss before the flames of dawn burn away the darkness.