Oh to sleep, if not to dream. I now go to bed each night dreaming first and foremost of sleeping. If that should ever work out for me I can then dream of dreaming. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, letting the blackness provide a backdrop for beautiful loving images. On really off nights the beauty turns into a foggy haze for a nightmare that has me racing through the night with a zombie, ghost, or some similar horrible monster that wants to help me meet my demise on my tail. Either way I try valiantly to focus on drifting or falling into a state of zzzzz’s that will allow my body to rest, to rid itself of the stresses of the day. “Have faith” I tell myself, no matter how long a dry sleep spell you endure, sooner or later you will just crash from exhaustion being offered no choice in the matter.
Okay eyes closed, “empty your mind” I say to me, myself, and I, though much easier said than done. “Am I too warm or too cold” I ask myself. “Nope” myself says. “Fine” I say, “so sleep and dream away already” I frustratingly command myself. My eyes fly open with the swiftness of an eagle in flight, “not tonight” a tiny voice inside me mockingly says. Sitting up on the side of the bed a huge sigh escapes my lips, “why not” I practically scream into the blanket of blackness that shrouds my room? Take a deep breath I mutter silently to myself, in, out, in, out. I am so sick of this nightly battle I have with sleep! I am determined to win, but thus far I can’t say I have been earning many points in the game. So the race to slumber begins, to doze before that wicked glowing tick tock on the dresser laughingly and loudly sounds her alarm that time is up.
So the hours ever so slowly creep by while the glowing red digital numbers count down the minutes of my life. Still I toss, I turn, I wearily make one of many trips downstairs to the powder room, I return to my bed for yet another try to find at least a wee bit of shuteye. About four o’clock this being can take it no more and collapses into a way overtired deep puddle. I swear that an earthquake would have great difficulty raising me from the hypnotic trance I am in.
BUZZ, BUZ, BUZZ penetrates my heavy lidded unconsciousness, the flashing digits now look like fiery embers in their afterglow. I bolt upright and shake my head wondering what on earth was causing the horrible commotion. Realizing that it is my old adversary across the room I pick up a slipper and prepare to fire it with great force. Second thoughts take over and halt my attack knowing there will be a day that I will be forced to enlist the aid of that annoying enemy.
The sun has risen, the day has begun, alas no dreams had I last night. The forced forty winks I had will have to suffice. I live for another day, another sunset, perhaps another chance to drift away and dream.