I've not quite figured out why yet, but I find that I'm a sleep rebel. When I know I should be climbing into my bed, I instead find something else to do. Recently, that something has been reading, but it has also been YouTube videos, or blogs, or Adobe tutorials.
Wifey has finished watching her five minutes of Gilmore Girls (she doesn't last any longer than that even though the DVD plays on), Munchkin and Munchkenna have both been slumbering peacefully for hours, and the house is still. Darkness has overtaken this corner of the world, but occasionally the moon rebels and parades itself through a window onto a new portion of the wall or floor. Occasional sirens or motorcycle engines (or, more recently, the fireworks) remind me that civilization is still around. Rarely, various dogs enrage their owners by breaking the silence coming from the nearby open window. The world is still out there while I sit in the cocoon of my house.
The escapist in me finds solace in the young adult fiction novels that often formulaicly guide me through an adventure. I find myself drawn to those I'll never meet, even those who will never exist, unless it is within the confines of my skull. I dream of them sometimes, and find ways to help them, or just talk with them. Sometimes they help me out, but not in my dreams. Their written stories are generally enough for me.
I think the thing I dread most about going to sleep is knowing that the new day is coming. I know there will be another adversarial day at work coming in the morning. I know there will be more teething. I know there will be busy commutes. But I also know that there will be amazing sunrises, and that moment when I come home from work to see Munchkenna's eyes open wide while her wrists and ankles pivot while grunting for me to pick her up. I can never get there fast enough for her.
I think things seem to be moving quickly at the moment, and I'm struggling to keep up. Munchkin asks me grown-up questions like, "How was your day, Daddy?" She carries on conversations on just about anything. Munchkenna is walking and has reverted to only saying a couple variations of the same word (dada or dad with a very emphatic terminal d). It seems life is moving like a bullet train and my eyes cannot focus enough on the passing scenery to make sense of all of it.
So I continue to hold on to the night, hoping that, through the futile act of staying awake, time will slow down a bit. Maybe I can make sense enough to help out some of the people I glimpse as a blur as they pass me.
I'm making an effort at work to go out of my way to say hi to people (Don't freak out, Wifey). I have come to realize that when I work with some people, they come in, tell me what they want in as few words as possible, and quickly leave, acting as if they don't have time for anything else. I think part of this is because they don't understand that I am trying to help them. They see me as an enemy. I don't feel any enmity toward them, but I don't agree with the way I am treated.
So, to catch them off guard, and hopefully catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, I am making it a point to greet them when they come to see me. So far, it seems to annoy them more than anything, but I think it would be good if more than just me took the time to look at the scenery instead of just let it blur by until another week, then another month, then another year has completed and we all sit there and think where did my year go? Didn't we just have the 4th of July?
So now I'll go stew on this some more while fighting off the urge to sleep (if my sunburn will let me). Maybe my attempts are working, but I'm just not seeing the train slow down yet because my eyes can't detect the change, as it is too minor to notice at this point. If it does work, I'll let you know.
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