Things that go bump in the night
The eyes just snap open.
And I'm awake.
No need to look at the clock, it's green glow in the darkness. It's 3:11 a.m.
The dogs don't even rustle anymore, the whole process has become that mundane. They lift their heads, watch what I'm going to do, drop back to sleep.
Not me.
Sometimes, it's easy to lay in the calm, empty my mind and drift back off. The nights where the eyes snap open, I know I'm doomed.
I take a swig of water, swing my legs from under the comforter and take a tour of the house. Sometimes there's a limp, an old foot injury that comes back stiff if I've not kept myself hydrated. I look out the sliding-glass door into the night, rake fingers through my hair, yawn. I'm not look for/at anything. I sometimes couldn't tell you I even looked.
The girls don't follow, they know it's not time to eat, not time to walk. They hunker down, wait until I come back, knowing I won't bring a treat, either. It's late, it's early and even they think I'm nuts.
The 3:11 a.m. thing? It's been going on for years. Someone asked if maybe I suffered some calamity at that hour. Nothing comes to mind.
I don't sweat it, not now.
I curl back under the cooled covers, don't fret. Relax. It's better this way.
Done right, and I may get another two hours of sleep.
Before I'm up for the day.
And I'm awake.
No need to look at the clock, it's green glow in the darkness. It's 3:11 a.m.
The dogs don't even rustle anymore, the whole process has become that mundane. They lift their heads, watch what I'm going to do, drop back to sleep.
Not me.
Sometimes, it's easy to lay in the calm, empty my mind and drift back off. The nights where the eyes snap open, I know I'm doomed.
I take a swig of water, swing my legs from under the comforter and take a tour of the house. Sometimes there's a limp, an old foot injury that comes back stiff if I've not kept myself hydrated. I look out the sliding-glass door into the night, rake fingers through my hair, yawn. I'm not look for/at anything. I sometimes couldn't tell you I even looked.
The girls don't follow, they know it's not time to eat, not time to walk. They hunker down, wait until I come back, knowing I won't bring a treat, either. It's late, it's early and even they think I'm nuts.
The 3:11 a.m. thing? It's been going on for years. Someone asked if maybe I suffered some calamity at that hour. Nothing comes to mind.
I don't sweat it, not now.
I curl back under the cooled covers, don't fret. Relax. It's better this way.
Done right, and I may get another two hours of sleep.
Before I'm up for the day.
Comments
what is it you wonder?? when, perhaps, the first cramp hit the womb to shove us forward?
5.06 am