I drafted this a couple of weeks ago, and never finished or published it. Insomnia and I haven’t run into each other again yet, but I’m sure she’ll turn up eventually, bad penny that she is.
I heard the rooster crow, and made my way from the couch to the kitchen to check the time. It was still too dark to see the wall clock, so the digital numbers on the stove display would have to do. 4:12am. Well, I reasoned, if Pocket says it’s morning, so be it.
Insomnia doesn’t often catch me; I am too tired from working and mothering and gardening and housekeeping and on and on. When she does manage to snag me, she is cruel. I’ve been awake since two, settling onto the couch just as J was shutting down his game console and heading upstairs. Passing in the night, literally.
What does catch me is indecision. Doubt. Anxiety and uncertainty. We’ve been bumping into each other a lot lately, like that ex-boyfriend you’d rather not see. Did we make the right choice? Why didn’t we do that years ago? I wish we’d known then what we know now.
And when those strange bedfellows decide to party with Insomnia? It’s a wild ride down the rabbit hole. Makes for a long night.
I’ve learned that if I don’t win the battle quickly, it’s best to take control of the situation by getting up and being productive. I emptied the dishwasher and scrubbed the pots in the sink. Began a load of laundry and got some bread out of the freezer. Made a To Do list of steps toward abolishing the horrors of the rabbit hole. And now I’m on the balcony, drinking coffee and watching a porcupine trundle through the orchard. Quiet, solitary. Deep breaths.