I hate not being able to sleep for the same reason I hate those stretches of a car trip where you can't get any radio stations and yo
u are tired of
CDs- too much silence means too much time to think. And then of course it becomes impossible to "clear your mind" because you are thinking of too many things at once. Here are some samples that I jotted down in the notebook I dug out of the nightstand tonight...
For example- I'd like to see a great, original, new movie. One with a fresh plot and a "non-formula" storyline instead of rehashing the same old love story (I just
knew they would end up together) or hero story (lucky someone with super powers, or magical skills, or demigod abilities was there to save the world, right?). I mean, I'm good with pretty much any movie- I'm not too concerned about things like lighting and camera work- but I'd be OK with something new.
Next thought: I need one of those pens they use in space for times like this because my arm falls asleep when I'm propped up writing. Just ask Jerry Seinfeld. A pencil just won't do- not for late at night when there are no other noises in the house. The graphite and paper combo is far too squeaky when that is the only sound.
Moving on- I'm a sucker for books. Not just great, life-changing, "You've got to read this" books. Pretty much anything mildly entertaining. The trouble is when I get started on a book it consumes my life (well- the morning part when Steve is at the gym or at work and Josh is asleep or the nighttime when Steve and Josh are both sleeping parts anyway). I stay up too late reading the latest book I've stumbled upon. Granted- occasionally I finish and find myself pondering exceptional characters or life lessons learned. However, mostly I just lament the fact that I stayed up until 1 AM reading a book for 8
th graders when I can't even manage to have a regular personal scripture study regiment.
I think of happy things too- like remembering the thrill of finally feeling the baby move the first time around and smiling with joy when I feel the occasional flutters of baby #2. Or thinking of how Josh can spot Elmo from across the store- even if he is the size of a dime on a tag on a diaper bag. Or laughing to myself when I remember that Josh's wooden blocks are strewn across the front room in spite of Steve and I making multiple
attempts to clean up. Each attempt was met with Josh running over to grab the bag of blocks and dumping them out while laughing hysterically. Eventually we gave up.
Too many thoughts swirling around in my head. This must be why I read so much at night. The only way my brain has a chance at shutting off is if I give it only ONE thing to focus on. Better go dig up another book...