Secret Pop

Nov 13, 2002

It's a shame. She slept through the whole thing.

This is me waking up. From never really sleeping, actually. I have to catch a plane in a few hours, and I had that peculiar fear that I wouldn't wake up in time, so I woke up two hours early, with only two and a half hours of sleep to my credit, and spent the rest of the time lying there, taking stock of the pain in my neck and shoulder (right side, this time -- curious), wondering if I would fall asleep, wondering if I would oversleep, wondering if I just dreamed that I got that email, realizing I did, listening for ghosts. I even set three alarms. Just in case. I'm noticing that I actually feel more alert at this moment than I usually do when I wake during the sunshine hours. But, in an hour which usually precedes my bedtime, I have been roused from precarious slumber, and I feel as if I got up before I ever went to bed. It's that I'm-my-own-grandpa syndrome. With my good fortune, that means I will likely fall asleep at some very important moment during the day, thereby missing certain fame and fortune from having caught a certifiable glimpse of Sasquatch or passing up my opportunity to be loved and admired by all for a short time when I am recognized as the million zillionth customer at McDonald's. Starbuck's and Red Bull can only take one so far.

So much suddenly in my reach. So much persistently out of my reach. So much confusion and mishmosh, I want to make a pie of it.

Ghosts are very quiet. I have never managed to hear one yet. I wonder if anyone is listening for me.

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