I so, so wish our minds were like our eyes, that we could close them. Who hasn’t been there: desperately fatigued and aching for sleep, but unable to drift off as horrid images sparked from our days parade over and over in front of our minds’ eye, twisting and into more and more horrible permutations as precious sleep-seconds pass by?

My days are too long and over-stimulated: too many heavy conversations, too much shopping, too much anxiety for the future, too much music, too  many objects, too much food, too many people, all with far too many intense convictions. I go to bed far too late, and I fall asleep even later. Conversations play and re-play in my mind. Images of possible happenings float around, feeding and nourishing paranoias and dreads. The Golden Boy. The Princess. Him. Them. Despite the free babysitting, the presence of my family does not calm and soothe me, on the contrary. They are not cups of chamomile tea, rather, they are strong doses of espresso. They have strong opinions on everything. Everything. Every simple statement elicits a host of questions from an army of people:

-I am going out with XXXX tonight.

-Why? Didn’t you go out together last week?

-Why are you going with XXXX? Why aren’t you going with YYYY?

-Where is YYYY? How are they? Aren’t you still friends?

-Why are you still friends after that issue from 1994? (big re-hashing of 1994 incident)

-Why aren’t you still friends?

-Where are you going with XXXX?

-Why? Why not go to the other place?

And so on. It continues until I actually step out of the door.

To be fair, I’ve always needed a mind-switch- I’ve never had regular sleep patterns for as long as I can remember, and having children simply worsened it.

But. But. The days are fast running to the end. I should enjoy the questions live while I can. Soon I will be fielding them through video-chat.


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