Monday, July 25, 2005

I Love the Nightlife...

It’s 1:30am and I am up after a brief bit of shut eye. I have a headache from this blasted cold I feel like I have been fighting all of my life. It has moved into my chest so my coughs sound like I need to be trimming my 2 pack a day habit to just 1. (Or just switch cigarette brands.)

Being up at night when the rest of your family is sleeping feels like sneaking around a store after it is closed. You don’t turn on as many lights. Moving objects around, you take great care to keep them quiet. It is a rich feeling, like you have unlimited possibilities of what you can do. Time ceases to exist and the world (as confined by pajama clad activities) is your oyster. Will you clean up your house a little? Do you pay some bills? Start a book? Finish a book? Snack and watch TV? Or write poetic e-mails to your friends about your nightlife?

As I sit here in my pj’s (and a lot of you know what THAT means) I struggle over what to do while waiting for my 1 (one!) Extra Strength Tylenol to kick in. I have a book I started awhile ago that I haven’t really absorbed enough for a late night read. I will probably need to start it over but my internal CPU is operating on insufficient memory right now. If I add more information, things like my children’s names, my shoe size and what kind of car I drive will come running out the other side of my head, lost forever. I emptied the bags from my Target shopping spree (I can never go in there and get just ONE thing) and I could probably clean off the counter a little more. TV is always an option, I have 1,483 channels to choose from, there must be SOMEthing on. I have crocheting to do-I will be managing my own sweat shop from now till Christmas as I make scarves for everyone in my family as presents. (Family who may be reading this: Forget I said that. It isn’t scarves, I am getting you all hundreds of dollars worth of fabulous gifts and prizes!) Or I can simply continue to sit here surfing the internet, glad that no one can see me here in my pajamas (!!) and sandals.

Then there is my most favorite option: one of the above sedimentary activities coupled with falling asleep on my couch. It is so glorious to nap on my couch-a big hug that leaves you wanting for more pillows instead of a husband in your bed. (You are thinking, “Does she really mean that?” YES, I do!) Although sleeping on the couch is wonderful and feels like such a glorious treat, in the morning the magic in the relationship is gone and you can’t understand why the cushions are poking you and how the couch is trying to launch you onto the floor and the pile of clean laundry you were using as a pillow has flattened into an uncomfortable lump. The ends of your feet are slightly numb because the couch is too short by just thismuch and walking feels like a whole new sensation now that you are toeless. You could say it is a hangover (HAHAHAHA bad 1:30am joke!)

I think I will opt for the unmentioned activity of lying in bed and willing my headache to go away. I can feel it fading now and wonder if I gripe too much about only taking 1 (one!!) Extra Strength Tylenol since it does seem to be working a bit. I feel funny sitting here in my pj’s (a bit drafty, really) and I am all too aware that in only 5 hours, I will have a sweet faced boy kissing me awake. (It isn’t as sweet as it sounds, most of the time he forgets and instead puts his face up close to yours and you get to awake to the delightful feeling like you are being watched. And you ARE.)

Good Night.

2 comments:

  1. I like your writing in the middle of the night, I think you should write all your drama sketches then...
    a little bit too much caffeine...and TA-DA
    beauty
    :)

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  2. Okay Nightowl: you are officially the goofiest friend I know. You mentioned PJ's, are you going to make it to Gwen's slumber party... will DZ make it one night without you?

    your couch piece is awesome....I think you should enter it into an short essay contest.

    Or, write a book, and Auntie Heidi can get 1% royalties, cause she encouraged you to write the book...how 'bout them apples?!?!?!?!

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