I couldn’t sleep last night. I was awake until sometime after 3:00 AM. My mind just wouldn’t shut the hell up. I’d start to drift off and a new worry or concern would thrust its ugly face in there and I’d roll over with it weighing on my sleep starved brain. I hate when that happens. I have enough trouble waking up in the morning without being over-tired.
There were too many thoughts all competing for my attention, worries about work in the morning and how much of an ass I likely made of myself over the weekend. That’s enough to keep anybody from the sleep depot and the sleepy train. Choo-Choo-Snore.
I was most displeased with the loss of my glove. I hate losing things. It makes me very upset and now my poor old glove is lost somewhere out in the world, all alone, separated from its brother for the first time. It makes me sad and then slightly angry at myself for having lost it. It makes me feel irresponsible and think, “How could I ever have children, I can’t keep track of a damn glove”. I loved that glove too, we had a lot of adventures together and he’ll be sorely missed. I’m not sure how to break the news to the glove I still have. He’s not going to take it very well I don’t think.
I once lost a baseball hat for a whole year at some college party in Southern Illinois, I think. It was one of my favorite hats, a beat up old Cubs hat that I had carefully crafted and colored and made my own. I fell asleep at some point at this party and when my friend woke me up to go I just got up and left the hat. I didn’t even realize it wasn’t on my head. I was so bummed that I had forgotten the hat and I was sure I’d never see it again. But luckily, one of the people at the party realized I had forgotten it and a year later she gave it back to me. I was overjoyed and I still have that hat to this day. I don’t wear it anymore but I can still look at it and feel amazement that it made its way back to me.
It’s no wonder I can’t sleep, I’m too worried about the inanimate objects in my life. I know they aren’t alive but I still seem to give them some level of personification. I think the furniture talks to each other when no one is around. I know that’s impossible and really know that doesn’t happen, but there is some childlike wonder that wishes it were true.
I was worried as I tossed and turned last night that today would be an extremely busy day and lo and behold, it is. I received an obscene amount of work this morning and I’m filled with dread at the amount of long, boring and likely aggravating conversations I will have to have today. Sometimes I do wish the desk would come to life and do the job for me.
“Who may I say is calling?”
“This is Mister, Uh..Mister, Mister Desk, yes, my name is Mr. Desk.”
Good Boy.
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