I wonder sometimes why I suffer from insomnia. It could be that my mind races and over processes trivial issues into catastrophes. It could be that I rarely lose my cool during business hours and it simply builds up into a midnight battle of wills: my own. Maybe.
Or it could be that Winston, although weighing only fourteen pounds, is a hog. He snores louder than a drunken sailor, kicks like he's in a puppy "Cage Match" ,and needs to be covered: at all times. When you throw in my own desire to be snuggly warm, you'd think it would be a perfect match. No. I go to bed and do the little "jumping jacks" to warm up the sheets. Then I get out the extra blankets and begin layering. I truly need them since Cheech wanders off in the night with most of them (not to mention my pillow). That leaves Winston in the cold...so he begins to root and snort. This in turn, wakes up Birdie. She begins to whine and scratch which arouses Cheech. He throws pillows and huffs. Informing everyone they need to shut the Hell up. I end up naked and cold ... and awake with sleepy hurt feeling. ;) not really that last one...
I still don't know why I suffer? Hmmmm.
Well, we have begun to cage Wee at night also. It makes Birdie do that "Nah-nee-na-nee-boo BOO!" face. Winston pouts mercilessly and snorts even louder. I think he does it on purpose.
But I've been sleeping better, arising at 3 or 4 rather than 1 or 2. It's simple and I like it. But last night was different.
I crawled in bed and did my jumping jacks. I began to hoard my pillows and layer/ hide my blankie stash. I sighed contentedly. Ohhhhh yeah. I love my bed and it loved me right back.
Dreams were fabulous and warm. Have you ever been HAPPY while sleeping? Maybe you dream that your happy. Maybe you sense you're dreaming about happy things like birthday cake. I couldn't care less how it happens...I was sleeping and HAPPY about it.
Then my dreams became skewed; warped. There was a sudden jolt: an earthquake perhaps. Or a tsunami. There was an ocean of red and it swelled trying to swallow me. Augh! I was trapped, drowning. It was pitch black but I heard voices! Help! HELP ME! A weight began to trample and pull me down. Ohhhhh Hang on! I'm coming! Wait for me! I'll help you! I swear! But I'm struggling. I can't break free.
"Where are you?" the voice is familiar.
I'm panicking. That IS a good question. "Where AM I" I wonder.
"I don't know!" I have to shout above the surf; the horrible waves. Wind roared in my ears and down my throat trying to stifle my words. Armageddon.
"I can't see you."
"Here! I'm here!"
There is movement near me. I swim toward it, gulping and choking. Safety is near.
"Here. HERE! Don't give up! I'm right here!" my body is tired from swimming. My lungs hurt from trying to breathe. My legs burn from breaking free...
of my dream.
Stupid Winston had busted out of the cage that wasn't properly locked and hopped on the bed. He'd danced across Cheech's man toys (unbelievably waking him) and made a bee line right under the blankets for the crook of my legs. Cheech got up and began to "float the sheets" to find him.
It was 3am.
And so here I am. I hope you read this at a decent hour. G'night.
