waiting for my tollbooth
Insomnia strikes again.
It's quarter past three in the morning and once again, i'm still awake. I've spent the last week staring into darkness for hours on end, begging God to magically make me fall asleep. He hasn't. Perhaps he's considering it another great opportunity for me to spend more time with him, and for that i have no legitimate arguments. After all, if i seriously can't doze off, what better time to indulge in a groggy conversation with God?
Last night, however, i did fall asleep for a few hours after spending a bit of time making myself sleepy by Googling people that my partners at work keep referencing who i'm sick of not being familiar with (i'm one of the youngest employees at our store, which means every day i get "the look" from at least one of them for not knowing who so-and-so is and for not having seen this or that movie). But then i woke up. And let me tell you, there is nothing worse than waking up in the middle of the night when you're sick.
First of all, your chances of falling back asleep are shot. All you can really do is sigh and face the music: your day has begun. What will you do? In my case (at least this time), i decided to start my day by talking out loud to no one in particular: "I could reeeeaally use a cup of tea right now. But i've had so much tea already. I might as well be a giant tea leaf. But i'd really rather be a honey packet. Can i be a honey packet?" And of course, nobody answered me.
I decided for myself that i may not have the kind of ability that would allow me to turn into honey (or agave nectar...that would be better), but i could go and eat some honey if i wanted. And at 3:00am, especially when one is sick, i'm fairly certain that one has license to do pretty much whatever one pleases. So i dragged myself out of bed and went to the kitchen and enjoyed an intoxicating three tablespoons of honey (did you really expect me to stop at just one?). Then i had about just as many sips of water, only because everyone always tells me to drink lots of liquid when i'm sick but i've always been skeptical of that helping in any way. The combination seemed to work for the time being, so like an idiot i trudged back upstairs to attempt to catch a few more z's.
[Insert obnoxious wrong-answer noise here.]
I had to cough. And blow my nose. And clear my sore, dry, burning throat a million times. Unfortunately, when you're sick, and you need to do all of these things at 3:00 in the morning, you can't. Because everybody else is still sleeping, and you'll wake them up and bother them if you do, and this pisses you off. Allow me to correct myself: There is something worse than waking up when you're sick, and that's not being able to cough when you need to (or microwave water for your tea, for that matter...although, give me another hour or so and i just may cave in there).
Being awake at this hour, of course, does have it's benefits. It was agreed recently that some of the best things in life happen right about now, and one of them (naturally) is Discovery. Ideas. People and places and things that once seemed only figments of your imagination can suddenly become a reality. And this morning proves no different, as sitting here with scratchy throat and dark zombie circles under my eyes, i've stumbled across what i feel is one of the most important discoveries i've ever made.
I need a tollbooth. Not just any old tollbooth, mind you, but a phantom tollbooth, just like Milo's (if you're over the age of 12 and you've never read The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster, you've committed a serious crime and should be carted off and banished to the Island of Perpetual Tickling).
Think about it. I wake up at 3:00am and there, in the swirling mist clouding my bedroom, is a phantom tollbooth. Spellbound (and utterly stupid, as one should never approach a mysteriously misplaced object shrouded by mist anywhere, no matter what the time), i pay the toll (you know, with that emergency change i keep in my pajama bottoms) and suddenly i'm whisked away to mythic places encountering odd characters that make me feel somewhat normal. My first stop, of course, would be Dictionopolis, where i'd hug my hero, the Whether Man ("for after all it's more important to know whether there will be weather than what the weather will be"). Then i'd pass through the Doldrums, where i'd try to bum some tissues or perhaps a spoonful of honey off of the local Lethargarians - although i wouldn't expect more than a few blank stares and perhaps a sigh or two, as nobody there would give two turds about my condition. Finally, i'd pick up Tock the watchdog and we'd wickstickle our way through the Word Market and head up the Mountains of Ignorance to rescue the twin princesses, Rhyme and Reason (or just Rhyme, depending on how much time we have, as she's far more worth rescuing in my opinion).
Wonderland Shmunderland, i always say.
I'd take Tock over Cheshire any day!
Officer Short Shrift can give me a ticket
for using such words as Lickety Splicket,
fermontondle and thraxic and sploo.
The Mathemagician will spew and stew!
We'll rescue from him the poor Half Boy
and take him to Chroma to find
that all you need in life is some color
to leave all your worries behind.
Anyway, i'm hungry. Over and out.
It's quarter past three in the morning and once again, i'm still awake. I've spent the last week staring into darkness for hours on end, begging God to magically make me fall asleep. He hasn't. Perhaps he's considering it another great opportunity for me to spend more time with him, and for that i have no legitimate arguments. After all, if i seriously can't doze off, what better time to indulge in a groggy conversation with God?
Last night, however, i did fall asleep for a few hours after spending a bit of time making myself sleepy by Googling people that my partners at work keep referencing who i'm sick of not being familiar with (i'm one of the youngest employees at our store, which means every day i get "the look" from at least one of them for not knowing who so-and-so is and for not having seen this or that movie). But then i woke up. And let me tell you, there is nothing worse than waking up in the middle of the night when you're sick.
First of all, your chances of falling back asleep are shot. All you can really do is sigh and face the music: your day has begun. What will you do? In my case (at least this time), i decided to start my day by talking out loud to no one in particular: "I could reeeeaally use a cup of tea right now. But i've had so much tea already. I might as well be a giant tea leaf. But i'd really rather be a honey packet. Can i be a honey packet?" And of course, nobody answered me.
I decided for myself that i may not have the kind of ability that would allow me to turn into honey (or agave nectar...that would be better), but i could go and eat some honey if i wanted. And at 3:00am, especially when one is sick, i'm fairly certain that one has license to do pretty much whatever one pleases. So i dragged myself out of bed and went to the kitchen and enjoyed an intoxicating three tablespoons of honey (did you really expect me to stop at just one?). Then i had about just as many sips of water, only because everyone always tells me to drink lots of liquid when i'm sick but i've always been skeptical of that helping in any way. The combination seemed to work for the time being, so like an idiot i trudged back upstairs to attempt to catch a few more z's.
[Insert obnoxious wrong-answer noise here.]
I had to cough. And blow my nose. And clear my sore, dry, burning throat a million times. Unfortunately, when you're sick, and you need to do all of these things at 3:00 in the morning, you can't. Because everybody else is still sleeping, and you'll wake them up and bother them if you do, and this pisses you off. Allow me to correct myself: There is something worse than waking up when you're sick, and that's not being able to cough when you need to (or microwave water for your tea, for that matter...although, give me another hour or so and i just may cave in there).
Being awake at this hour, of course, does have it's benefits. It was agreed recently that some of the best things in life happen right about now, and one of them (naturally) is Discovery. Ideas. People and places and things that once seemed only figments of your imagination can suddenly become a reality. And this morning proves no different, as sitting here with scratchy throat and dark zombie circles under my eyes, i've stumbled across what i feel is one of the most important discoveries i've ever made.
I need a tollbooth. Not just any old tollbooth, mind you, but a phantom tollbooth, just like Milo's (if you're over the age of 12 and you've never read The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster, you've committed a serious crime and should be carted off and banished to the Island of Perpetual Tickling).
Think about it. I wake up at 3:00am and there, in the swirling mist clouding my bedroom, is a phantom tollbooth. Spellbound (and utterly stupid, as one should never approach a mysteriously misplaced object shrouded by mist anywhere, no matter what the time), i pay the toll (you know, with that emergency change i keep in my pajama bottoms) and suddenly i'm whisked away to mythic places encountering odd characters that make me feel somewhat normal. My first stop, of course, would be Dictionopolis, where i'd hug my hero, the Whether Man ("for after all it's more important to know whether there will be weather than what the weather will be"). Then i'd pass through the Doldrums, where i'd try to bum some tissues or perhaps a spoonful of honey off of the local Lethargarians - although i wouldn't expect more than a few blank stares and perhaps a sigh or two, as nobody there would give two turds about my condition. Finally, i'd pick up Tock the watchdog and we'd wickstickle our way through the Word Market and head up the Mountains of Ignorance to rescue the twin princesses, Rhyme and Reason (or just Rhyme, depending on how much time we have, as she's far more worth rescuing in my opinion).
Wonderland Shmunderland, i always say.
I'd take Tock over Cheshire any day!
Officer Short Shrift can give me a ticket
for using such words as Lickety Splicket,
fermontondle and thraxic and sploo.
The Mathemagician will spew and stew!
We'll rescue from him the poor Half Boy
and take him to Chroma to find
that all you need in life is some color
to leave all your worries behind.
Anyway, i'm hungry. Over and out.
posted by audrey at
4:25 AM
1 Comments:
We've never met (nor had I even read your blog until tonight - I found it on a search for "cards down and guns drawn," one of my all-time-favorite lyrical phrases), but I love your writing style. I bet that's not a compliment you often receive. You seem completely at ease behind a keyboard, and that's something that is (ironically) fairly uncommon these days.
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