Thoughts at 2:45 a.m. and why Buster doesn’t answer
Wednesday night, I couldn’t sleep. Buster could and he mocked me by laying down next to me on the couch and going to sleep.
He’s such a …. nevermind.
I tried three different times where I relayed from bed to couch, bed to couch, bed to couch and sleep never even threatened to overtake me. I tried to talk myself into sleeping, but I refused to listen and so I took some time apart from myself to think about the things I might have said to myself.
It was all a very weird time at 2:45 in the morning.
Of course, trying to lay down on the couch was kind of a waste. Our house sits askew from IJ Holton Intermediate School and the sun-like star of a light that sits over a north-facing door blazes into our window, bringing daylight to 2:45 in the morning.
Kind of starting to loathe 2:45 in the morning.
For a large, annoying part of the night, I watched traffic, sparse as it was, go east to west, west to east. Buster slept, though he would fix me with a side-eye every so often as I adjusted near endlessly on a couch that suddenly felt more like a brick of cement than a sectional.
I thought this would maybe be one night of watching the world drive silently passed my window, but no.
The following night I found myself on the couch again, sitting in the dark watching the world spin by, only this time I was graced with the Fast and the Furious driving by the house. The car, which sounded like a lawn mower on speed, jerked from the stop sign near the house, rocketing past me in some race who’s competitor was either missing or part of the fantasy of the driver, all the while mowing the street in front of the house.
Not to be outdone, a muscle car drove by a little later, rumbling the house with both its engine and the enormous amount of bass being kicked from the car’s speakers.
After so many parades covering families and students driving past their waving and cheering teachers because of COVID-19, I thought maybe this was some thoughtful person cruising the 1 a.m. streets, giving us a parade.
I felt bad I didn’t stand outside waving and holding a sign that read, “We miss you!”
I sat back after the vehicles thundered and weezed their way down the street and spared a thought to the continuing mess of our current existence and thought that maybe being awake in a relatively quiet world isn’t so bad.
In the pitch of the night, things were silent and peaceful. There weren’t any utterings of my new and most hated phrase, “new normal” floating around. There weren’t bickering and childish politicians tossing one-liners back and forth, with the hope that their “sick burn” would sway public opinion.
There was only the night and Buster and the thoughts of a person who was devoid of sleep.
Still devoid of sleep really, but we’re all kind of too tired to sleep these days, aren’t we?
So, what are you doing to pass the time? Are you making use of it with creative and fun activities to keep your mind active?
Are you watching the world as it operates outside of the home and what are you thinking?
Don’t walk away from me Buster. I’m asking you some serious questions.