jchrisobrien (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jchrisobrien) wrote2002-05-08 09:54 am
jchrisobrien) wrote2002-05-08 09:54 am
That treacherous and elusive mistress known as ... sleep
She wouldn't come to me again. She'll come to my roommate, or my neighbors, or most of Boston. But she turns her head when I slide under the sheets. She has a headache. Whatever.
Half a Dramamine later, I'm waiting for her to arrive, confident she will be there. And she does show up, some time around 1:30. No words are exchanged, I relax into her arms and sleep...
BLAM! crash, click SLAMrattlerattlerattle. There's a numbing breeze on my shoulder, turning the skin clammy and sore. The wind has slammed the back porch door shut so hard the doorknob fell off. Shuffle out of bed, trip over clothing. Reattach the doorknob and bolt the door shut. Downstairs I can hear footsteps. No doubt our landlord was awakened too. Closing the kitchen door, the one separating the kitchen and den, causes a great breezeway between the kitchen and my room. During the summer, this will be invaluable in keeping my room cool. Now, it's a creating a wind tunnel that wakes up the entire house. It can even penetrate the haze induced by drugs. I stumble through the darkness, and close the window directly over my bed. I slide next to sleep and mutter heartfelt apologies. She curls into me, muttering platitudes back to me, and we become one again.
Half a Dramamine later, I'm waiting for her to arrive, confident she will be there. And she does show up, some time around 1:30. No words are exchanged, I relax into her arms and sleep...
BLAM! crash, click SLAMrattlerattlerattle. There's a numbing breeze on my shoulder, turning the skin clammy and sore. The wind has slammed the back porch door shut so hard the doorknob fell off. Shuffle out of bed, trip over clothing. Reattach the doorknob and bolt the door shut. Downstairs I can hear footsteps. No doubt our landlord was awakened too. Closing the kitchen door, the one separating the kitchen and den, causes a great breezeway between the kitchen and my room. During the summer, this will be invaluable in keeping my room cool. Now, it's a creating a wind tunnel that wakes up the entire house. It can even penetrate the haze induced by drugs. I stumble through the darkness, and close the window directly over my bed. I slide next to sleep and mutter heartfelt apologies. She curls into me, muttering platitudes back to me, and we become one again.
no subject
"You need a drink," she says in her sultry voice.
In almost total darkness, I roll out of bed, grab my robe and pad out of my room, through the hall, through the den, and prepare to step into the kitchen.
WHAM!
The door separating the den from the kitchen is shut, as my face has just discovered.
"Ow."
I open the door, get my drink, and return to bed, still half asleep...
Re:
I was just thinking I should have some kind of glow in the dark sign saying "there is a door here."
Re: