June 3, 2010
I tried my best. I stayed, laying in bed listening to the rhythmic inhale and exhale of my spouse. There he was, blissfully unaware, flinging his elbow into my left eye socket every once in a while - asleep.
I sang to myself. I said my ABCs. I closed my eyes and was quiet.
Then someone in our neighborhood decided to set off some fireworks. At two o'clock on a Friday morning. I suppose that is better than six a.m. on a Sunday, but only a little.
My stomach had enough and decided to start rumbling and grumbling. And so I find myself wide awake, eating a bowl of oatmeal at 3:09. The sun will rise shortly. Hopefully I will be back in bed, tucked under the covers blissfully dreaming when dawn breaks.