It was a dark and stormy night.
Actually, it was a stupid night after the first day of spring with a freak snowstorm and now it looks like full on winter again and I don’t like it.
It’s twelve thirty six am here. My husband is gently snoring in bed beside me and I cannot sleep. Could be the steroids. Could be my overactive brain. I’ve never been a great sleeper. I mean, I *was* getting good at it for a while there but then I got sick and went on steroids that can mess with your sleep patterns so there you go.
My room is too warm. Which is funny, because before his heart attack Shawn was a human furnace and liked it cool whereas I was always cold, but, we’ve done a switch because my body has already kicked itself into pre-menopause and I’m hot all the time and his new, post heart failure, on blood thinners body is now always cold.
I’m annoyed with my illness. I’m ever fearful of his. Who would have guessed that we’d each wake up one day at 40 and be sick for the rest of our lives?
That’s maudlin, I know. But it’s late and therefore the maudlin thoughts are the ones with top billing. My brain always did like to fixate on the negative. At least that’s what a therapist once told me.
I miss smoking sometimes. But I don’t miss the money it ate up, the smell of it stale or the health problems it probably was a huge contributor too.
I need some sleep. I’m going to be so tired in the morning. But, the plows are out and they’re doing the circulation of the school parking lot across the street, so all I can hear is that loud engine revving and the sound of the scoop scraping on the asphalt. Not exactly a lullaby. A very Canadian sound. Like a zamboni. Or tinny voice at the Tim Horton’s drive through.
I’m going to try to sleep soon. I’m going to lay down, tuck my body pillow neatly between my knees and pinch and release my muscles, from my toes to my nose, as a yoga teacher once taught me, until my whole body remembers how to relax at the same time.
I will not get distracted by the beckoning electric light of my cell phone’s internet. I will not.
An hour, tops.
Goodnight, strange world. I’ll see what you look like in the morning.