Countdown to Fall

i thought i was ready for the summery weather, even excited for it as it meant my pasty white skin could turn a healthy pink, but now i find myself making peace (again) with a fundamental truth of my life: the sun and i are not friends. at best, we’re frenemies who get catty with each other the longer we hang out. plus, that bitch has got some fat ankles. i could never be friends with a sun like that.

the worst part about this heat is how it totally obliterates my sleep. it’s been several weeks now since i’ve had a satisfying night of slumber. when i go to bed each night, the first thing i can count on is a fun-filled hour of shifting from one uncomfortable position to another. then when sleep finally does come, it’s light and fleeting, punctuated by more tosses and turns, frequent pee breaks and sometimes nightmares.

i’m not normally prone to insomnia — i’ve always fancied myself a Champion Napper — but every summer it finds me like a collection agency finds a debtor. and when the calls start coming, they disrupt EVERYTHING, including otherwise calm moments when the phone isn’t ringing, like during the day when sleep is neither a priority nor a possibility but is still tormenting me with weary eyes and gnawing fatigue. i’m exhausted all the time. focusing is difficult. sometimes i forget my own name.

night times are even worse. around 3am, i’ll find myself wandering aimlessly around the house, trying not to wake up Mo by tripping over furniture in the dark. often i’ll step onto the deck to take in some fresh air, which has the cruel side effect of waking me up even more. at this point, one or both dogs will join me and stretch across my feet, yawning.

i’ll sit there for minute or two and look around nervously. it’s eerily quiet at 3am, the type of quiet that exists right before a meteor hits the earth or a dirty bomb incinerates los angeles. at these moments, i’ll begin thinking that something dreadfully awful is about to happen and that i’m going to be the only one awake to witness it.

in fact, i’m convinced that the only reason i woke up in the middle of the night is because i alone saw The End coming, and i needed to be awake to do something about it. though i’m never really should what i should do, so i don’t do anything and instead stand on my deck just waiting and waiting for something to happen. and when it doesn’t i crawl back into bed, annoyed that the sleep deprivation is now making me incredibly paranoid.

on other nights, i feel more mystical than paranoid. i’ll stare up at the big summer sky while contemplating the twinkly stars and mysterious universe. i’ll think about the earth spinning on its axis, with me as just a tiny speck among many that amount to both nothing and everything, and how the stars and i are made of the same organic matter, and wouldn’t it be cool to be a star in the sky with a view of the earth. it’s like being a bird but better because you don’t have to worry about foraging for food when you’re a star. you can just sit, twinkle and wait for people to pin their wishes on you.

i’ll make a few wishes of my own while sitting in the almost twilight, which provides the perfect backdrop for thinking Really Deep Thoughts, original thoughts i always want to write down because i’m sure they’ve unearthed some previously unknown truth about the inner workings of the human soul. but that sounds like too much effort to make in the middle of the night, so i end up crawling back into bed, annoyed that the sleep deprivation is now making me incredibly pretentious.