Insomnia has been my faithful nighttime companion for the past several years. What began as a result of stress has morphed into a hormonal Olympic event. Oh I knew it was coming, the sheer joy of womanhood in those middle years. Never did I count on insomnia being part of the equation. Summertime insomnia is my favorite, windows open wide, inviting more mental distractions to the sleepless dance.8:24 PM – Exhausted. Let me finish watching this show first. Fast asleep by 9 PM.
10:57 PM – Guess I shouldn’t have kept drinking all that water, time for a trip to the bathroom.
11:08 PM – Symphonic snoring in stereo: Raven on the floor to my left, Dave on the bed to my right. Mercifully Tonka doesn’t snore (yet). With twitching paws scratching against the floor, at this moment he is living a marvelous squirrel-chasing dream. Can’t believe how jealous I feel. I used to have wonderful dreams but I don’t dream much any more. Not usually asleep long enough for a good one to take hold.
12:15 AM – Whoa, I’m on fire! My own personal summer forces me up and out to where the windows let in more of that cool night air I so desperately need. I sprawl across the couch, furiously fanning the mysterious internal flame, nightgown of tiny pink flowers and lace flapping above me. I must look like a crazy old woman. The dogs join me, savoring the cool air. They don't seem to care about the crazy part. Afterwards I return to bed and wonder, why on earth am I cold now? I pull up the covers and curl into a ball.
1:54 AM – Do I hear Raven in the living room, struggling to get up? Hope she’s okay. Tears fill my eyes as I realize how quickly her health is deteriorating. Clickety click clickety click, slap slap slap, there she goes out the doggy door. Another slap slap slap and there goes Tonka the caboose, following behind.
2:01 AM – Two more identical series of the slap slap slap doggy door rhythm and here come the dogs back inside. Slurp slurp slurp slurp slurp in the water bowl, a lumbering clickety click clickety click up the hall, then it's back to sleep for Raven. She collapses on the floor next to me with a loud sigh as I reach down to stroke her thick fur. Oh geez, more tears. Old lady dog snoring resumes. Tonka has claimed the couch.
3:12 AM – A wet nose nudges me awake. Tonka wants some snuggle time so I invite him up on the bed. Amazing, how can such a little dog take up so much space? I tug and pull at the blankets and fluff the pillow, hoping to convince myself that I will be falling asleep real soon.
3:20 AM – Here comes the train, northbound on the tracks, horn blaring out an audible type of Morse code: two mediums, one short, one long, chug chug chug chug chug. First it crosses Lowell then 72nd then 80th, horns howling in repetition at each intersection. The still night air makes it sound much closer than it is. I hear the squeal of metal on metal and try to guess how long the train is. After 80th the tracks turn westward. I listen as it crosses 88th then Pierce then Wadsworth and keep listening until it becomes nothing more than a mournful sound in the distance. Wonder where they’re headed? Wyoming.
3:45 AM – Song lyrics drift around in my head, a silent jumbled lullaby for another sleepless night. I lay staring out the bedroom window and see headlights illuminating the neighbor’s house. A car speeds up, slows down, SMACK! … fast, slow … SMACK! … newspaper delivery time.
4:14 AM – I take one last peek at the clock and turn away from the glowing red light, wondering what this new day has in store.
4:56 AM – Dave is up, lights are on in the kitchen. I stumble out for coffee, grumbling about being so tired, about lack of sleep. “You were sleeping pretty soundly when I woke up,” he exclaims. His golden slumber keeps him blissfully removed from the secret nighttime world I share with the dogs. Part of that rock 'n' roll lullaby remains in my head the rest of the day:
And when the morning light comes streaming in,
I'll get up and do it again.
