Last night I couldn't sleep. One would think that considering I was up at six, at MUHS until two, drove to Johnson for a class in Gothic lit at four, then went to Auri's to watch what I claim is the worst movie ever, and then drove home, arriving at 11:30 and staying up to go over it all with my mother that I would have fallen into the bliss only found in one's unconsciousness the moment my head hit the pillow. Instead I lay, hazel eyes staring at the ceiling tracing the patterns in the paneling with my memory.
I'm not sure what it is that set me off. But as I lay there I thought of all the people who, like me, could not turn off their brain, and were instead staring into the oblivion that is life. I counted my heartbeat, I counted snores erupting from my father who was fortunate enough to sleep. I watched the lights flash in the hallway from the television left on by another sleeping body. I flipped through my favorite episodes of FRIENDS but nothing would lull my mind into some sense of security allowing me to drift away.
My mind was alive with images from the day reeling around like clips from a movie replaying each moment in my head tirelessly analyzing each moment looking for a reason. When I used to get this way I would get up and walk the halls in the dorm. I could pace back and forth beneath fluorescent lights and no one would be disturbed through the thick self closing fire doors that separate college students from the reality of the real world. Now, in a house where the inhabitants sleep with doors wide open in an attempt to lure the elusive white dog, the smallest step on the floor will wake someone. I rolled around beneath batik fabrics looking for a place in the red pillows to rest my head and my mind. I needed somewhere to place my thoughts. Nights like these make me with I were a wizard the likes of Albus Dumbledore and could place my troubling thoughts in a penceive where only I could access them and they would no longer trouble my mind.
Just as I was drifting off the sleep, I heard the soft buzz of my phone on the shelf. And I felt no need to look at it, rather, I was comforted by the fact that somewhere else in the world someone else was sleepless and I drifted off into a fitful sleep interrupted with fearful thoughts and troubled images.
When my eyes popped open at five in the morning however, I did not get up. I continued to lie in my bed comforted by the warmth of flannel sheets, a fleece blanket and two quilts protecting me from the infamous cold. I listened as my father whistled and sang as he got ready for work. At five thirty, by my phone, i caught the scent of Bacon wafting through the banister and filling the entire house with a fatty salty smell. At 5:41 I listened as the truck was cranked once...FAIL and then again...Success, if at first you do not succeed try try again, and then as the tires rolled over dirt sand and ice signifying the end of the morning concert in the kitchen. I responded to the message still in my phone..."You awake I need advice" and responded...I'm here now and full of advice.
At 6 Am my alarm went off letting me know for certain that a new day had arrived and it was time to face the world. This was when I fell sound asleep for fifteen minutes. Feeling safe that morning had come.
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