Maybe it was the iced dutch mocha I ordered at four in the afternoon, or maybe it was the crying jag in the car between Corvallis and Colton, or perhaps it was the constant yapping of the dog, but I am not asleep. It is nearly 2:30 in the morning. I have things to do in a few hours. Things I would like to do clear eyed. Sleep is never simple for me, but just once in awhile I'd like to do it with a little less effort. Last night for example, I should have been out like a light the second my head hit the pillow.
Yesterday, I spent nearly four hours playing in the water with my niece and sister. It was a total blast. We went round and round in the current pool, went up the steep stairs over, and over to slide, hands over head, down the big spiral water slide, and played with every available water toy at the park. It was hot. We got crazy sun tans, and we were completely water logged by the time we rolled away in the hot, hot car to the taco place for dinner. I was the kind of tired that was meant for a deep, sound sleep. But NO! Not only did I toss and turn, but we had a wicked huge lightening and thunder storm. I actually got scared and had to turn on all of the upstairs lights at my sister's house. Luckily she had escaped to the basement in an attempt to stay cool so she didn't know I was wasting her electricity.
You'd think after a fun, but exhausting day, followed by little sleep, and a long hot car ride home with a crying jag I would be sawing logs like a logger in the redwoods. It is not to be. Here I sit, writing about my woeful, non-sleeping existence. I WANT TO BE ASLEEP! I'd cry about it, but I don't think I have any tears left. When I arrived home, this evening, I was drained from the drive, the crying, and the oppressive humidity. I had a complete meltdown all over my husband. I made him so tired, he immediately fell asleep. Now I'm wondering why I didn't just point my car in the direction of the ocean. I'd certainly thought about it all morning. I haven't seen the ocean since March, and I was only an hour away. I think the combination of weird, thunderclouds in the sky, and missing my husband, and wanting to be in my own bed sent me home instead. Now I'm thinking a long walk on the beach, surrounded by all of those negative ions might have done the trick.
There is no beach at my house, and I don't like to walk at night next to the woods. (There is something in those trees watching, I just know it). I'm not even that crazy about having my back to the woods right this second with all of those big, non-covered, windows exposing me to the eyes of the nocturnal woodland creatures. So, no walk to wear me out. I'm going to have to crawl back into bed, and hope that the sandman remembers me for once. I probably turned him down for a date three decades ago, and that's why I have such lousy luck in bed (sleeping). I'd like to dream a little too. I'd like to dream about the water park. I think I could live there. I'm sure I could put up a little tent next to the picnic table area. I would love to have that current pool all to myself.
I don't know. I don't know how to sleep through the night, and I don't know how to quell my fear of being up by myself when I am so emotionally overwrought. Many a night, I have faced the woods to look up at the night sky, or taken a midnight walk with the dogs under a full moon. However, when I am this tired, the kind of tired that doesn't even have adjectives to describe it, I get jittery. I WILL climb back into bed, snuggle up to the snoring giant, and hope he is aware enough to wrap his arms around me, and maybe, just maybe, I will fall asleep.
May peace and sleep be yours from, The Goddess of Everything.