This was not the post I was going to have today. As a matter of fact, it isn't one I want to have any day but today called for it. I'm tired. Very, very, very tired. I am a person who needs sleep. When I was a kid I spent half my life being up a night. I considered myself a night person. I can remember when I was 3 or 4 years old and living with my grandparents, sneaking downstairs during the night and sitting in the rocking chair next to the big picture window. I think picture windows must have been the pre-slider days. It was a huge window (even by adult standards) and took up a large section of the livingroom wall. It had the pre-requsite bb-gun-pellet bullseye hole in it (I have no clue which child or grandchild put that there, but I can't remember the window without it.) and I would sit for hours rocking and looking out the window. The house across the street was a two-story and the windows and porch made a "face" – which in my imagination I would play in my mind as it watching me and as lights went on or off upstairs it would "wink" at me. Yes, I had an imagination even then. If I didn't sneak clear downstairs, I would slip down the stairway to the first landing – a small square where the staircase turned. There was a child-sized window on the landing and I could sit there on the floor and gaze out at the trains crossing at the kitty-corner. The trains passed behind the houses across from my grandparents' house, but they lived on a corner and I could see the trains at the crossing. They had a pretty active rail line, including passenger trains and I could watch them for hours, too. Then as a teenager I would sneak out of my bedroom window about 10 p.m. and come home at the crack of dawn – sometimes the paperboy would even beat me back to the house! An hour or so later, off to school. Thank goodness I had an art class first thing in the morning and didn't have to think too hard! The point being, I rarely got tired… I could turn around and do it all again the next night!
Now as an adult I can't get by on 3 or 4 hours or even 8 hours if it is constantly being interrupted. That brings us to last night. After a day (that I will probably post about tomorrow) that wore me out, I was finally home by 8 p.m. and in bed by 9. That's pretty typical. I don't usually sleep until after 10, however, as I use that time for reading. I did read some last night, but felt the need for shut-eye at about 9:30. All was fine until the friggin' phone rang at 11:30. This happened about three or four days ago, too, only that time no one was there. This time? I couldn't understand a word they said, but it was some prank talking in a high voice – said something really fast, then hung up. Gah. I hate, hate, hate, hate, hate (can you tell I don't like it?) when the phone rings at night. It usually isn't good news. People don't call you in the middle of the night to tell you they've gotten a promotion or they've won the lottery… they wait until it is a decent time of the day. In my experience, night calls have only meant someone is in jail… or has died. So even though I would love to disconnect the phone by my bed, if I did and someone DID end up in jail or die and I missed the call, well, that wouldn't be good. Now I'm wide awake and shaking with the adreneline caused by the jarring awake out of a deep sleep by a prankster. Bastard.
I settle down, finally, determining it was not in my best interest tonight to get up and read but to lay there and try deep breathing and calming techniques and let myself drift off again…
…for about another two hours. Now it is the dog. To be specific, my daughter's dog. I love this dog. She is a sweetheart. She only has one bad habit. She barks at the most mundane things. It takes nothing to set her off. You drop a book upstairs? She comes barking in a frenzy from downstairs. She sees a squirrel on the deck? Yup… arf. She has an electronic "bark"collar that is supposed to train her not to bark, but she seems to go through batteries like water. It works as a deterrent to a certain extent, however, the collar must be ON the dog. *Hint* Normally daughter takes her to the furthest reaches of the house to her bedroom at night, then kicks her out in the morning when she hears Hubs or I start moving around and begins the growling that preceeds the barking. That's fine. If we're up, we let her out when we let out the other pups and she's happy. I did say normally. Last night wasn't normal. Occasionally when daughter is
too lazy to come up and get the dog when the dog won't come to her super-tired she leaves the dog out loose and for some reason the dog prefers to be upstairs. Anyhow, that's what happened last night. Dog. Barking. I'm too out of it to get up and go make sure she has her anti-bark collar on (which I can tell by the length of time she's barking she either doesn't or the battery is dead again). I finally drag myself out of bed long enough to whisper-yell at her (it's a fine line, trust me). That stops it. For about another two hours. Yeah. Two hours.
Finally, as dawn is creeping in I give a long stretch… ARRRGGGHHHHH! A cramp! A cramp! A cramp! A mother-fucking-hurts-like-hell-grab-your-calf-cramp. I try the "push your heel down" to stretch the muscle. Well, let's just say I TRIED to push… this one was set in good. Set in so good that this morning it still hurts.
Last, but not least, finally I dozed a bit right before dawn. I don't know about you but that seems to be when I have the most vivid dreams and the ones I remember the longest. I was at the old house and walked into the garage to find rats of every shape, size and color that showed no fear whatsoever at the sight of me… so decided to go get a pistol (I just learned to shoot about a year ago) and kill them all. Then woke up. What is up with THAT? I'm sure some therapist would have a heyday.
Tonight won't be an early one, either. We're supposed to go have dinner with my son and his fiance' to check out the restaurant where the rehearsal dinner will be at. I just hope I can stay awake!