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Just Before Dawn

Oh, hello there. It’s been a while. Do forgive me. I’m afraid I’ve been pursuing hours in the day that do not exist for some time now, and it’s left me a wee bit…absent.

I’ve spent the last two months with my face buried in paper, up to my neck in ink, and just generally writing until my fingers fall off more days than not. This is a good thing, but it has left my other past times by the wayside. You know. By that side waaaaay over there. It’s just a little speck to me right now. Wave at them.

Words have ever been a giant central gear that my life revolves around. They propel me, fill me, spill out of me. They suck me into other worlds where planets spin through shining colorful galaxies filled with ultraviolet sparkles and dark grimy alleys where something really does want to eat you. They do it, and they do it often. I’ve occupied my imagination so fully lately that I haven’t had the chance to turn it to other things.

I want to sit under an oak tree and feel it live against my back. I want to watch the turning of fiery leaves and run my hands across velvet grass. I want to lay on my back and watch planets and stars appear in a cerulean sky. I want to look into the eyes of an elephant and have her reach out her trunk toward me. I want to soar above oceans again and smell peat and loam and heather. I want to climb up into the branches of a tree and read a book.

It is so easy to get caught up in things. I’m newly married. We both work and have passions and try to eat normal food at our abnormal times. We still haven’t gotten our thank you notes out.

As the world darkens and the sun stretches farther away for the winter months, I feel the return of a new year. I always sort of celebrate the Celtic new year, Samhain. It’s a day of the dead, yes, but it also marks rebirth. It marks the time of year when the earth slows to sleep, where all becomes still, and where hibernation occurs awaiting the return of the light and the burgeoning buds and blossoms. I can’t help but feel like something is…gestating in my life, for lack of a better word. Not in my body; no, there’s no life inside me forming. What I feel is that I’m frantically growing something. That these words I nurture every day are multiplying into something big, something that will soon be born to the world.

The leaves turn and fall to the ground, and the earth slumbers until spring. I will continue to create, to harbor the life of these words until they are ready to be shared. And I believe they will be shared. My husband believes in me. He brings me bright fall roses and dahlias and daisies to add cheer to our home and to comfort me while my body responds to the changing of the seasons. For every winter, there is a spring. So I will keep working, keep writing, keep hoping all through this long night of the earth.

I will write through the darkest hour.

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Bad News Bear

It has been a week of it. I got back from my bridal shower (which was lovely, by the way) to find out that my move-out situation from my old house has hit yet more financial snags, my mother is in the hospital again, and someone close to me is getting a divorce. I guess bad news really does travel in threes. Ugh.

In spite of all of that, I have endeavored to get into my writing some more, and I have succeeded in getting a solid twenty pages of revision done this evening. For more information on that, I suggest you check out my writing blog.

The reason for the late night is an ill-timed three hour nap I took with my fiance. In spite of the poor timing, it ended up working out in my favor. I have been needing and itching to get work done for a while.

Speaking of my fiance, he hunted around to find me some useful Gaelic learning material and downloaded it for me. I get warm fuzzies thinking about it. He also asked me about my desire to learn the language and listened when I prattled on about it for some time. I can’t wait to start working on it more.

The wedding is six weeks away. I cannot believe it is so close now. What a trip. Married. Me. John’s parents are coming into town next weekend to go over some more wedding stuff with us. We’re getting into crunch time now. I’m starting to get the calls about flight times and questions about sleeping arrangements and all of that. John and I definitely need to book some of our tickets for the honeymoon and secure our rental car. So much to do, and an ever-decreasing amount of time to do it in.

Phew.

Okay. I think I am going to see if I can get a few hours of sleep before my double tomorrow. I still have a bit of a long weekend ahead of me.

Tired

Okay, I gotta complain for a second.  Sorry.

I am so tired of being tired all…the…time. I’m sure the long-term effects of sleep deprivation are somewhat as serious as alcoholism or drug abuse.  Possibly zombification. Basically, I’ve been living on 2-4 hours of sleep a night every weekday for the past nine months, and my body is just shutting down.  I am beginning to fall asleep pretty much anywhere, only to be startled awake half the time by pounding waves of anxiety and a bitter taste in my mouth.  I get headaches every day.  I’ve gotten three migraines in the last six weeks.  This is not normal.  This is not good.

I consider myself lucky if I manage to get six or seven hours of sleep in a night.  Even on weekends it’s hard for me to sleep soundly and wake up rested because the anxiety is so bad.  I can’t relax.  It’s been like this for months.  I only have three more weeks to make it through.  I hope I can manage it.  It’s to the point that I can’t sit down on my bed after work without falling asleep.  I managed to make it three days this week without napping like that and got a little extra sleep, but then last night I tossed and turned until 4 again, and bam, I’m back in the pain cage.

I sincerely believe that some of us are not built for mornings.  And the world is not built for us.

Museless Maunderings

I wanted to spend some time writing my book tonight.  What did I do instead?  Took a “nap” at 4:30 and slept until 10.  That’s what I get for this sleep schedule — I run myself to exhaustion, and then my body shuts down and I pass out.  That is not a good thing. Tomorrow is going to be a long day; we have a meeting at work (awful), I have a doctor’s appointment for my treatment, then I’m meeting a friend about living together.  All that is a long day for me with this injury.

In other news, I’m thinking a lot about the UK election.  The Tories made some significant gains.  I’m not hugely well-versed in UK politics, but I know enough to get by, and I’m not a fan of the conservative party.  For one thing, they’re super anti-EU.  They say they’re not, but when they say they’re going to introduce a big referendum on UK sovereignty immediately, that speaks to some sentiments I don’t like a whole lot.  But then again, I’m not a huge fan of the political UK as it exists — I think that Scotland and Wales should have sovereignty over their own issues.

Specifically, about Scotland, I cannot imagine that they are happy with this new government and with David Cameron at 10 Downing Street.  Only 15% of Scots voted for the Conservatives, and that leaves a whopping 85% who didn’t want the Tories in power, yet because they are still subject to UK sovereignty in many ways, they are going to have the Conservative agenda imposed on them.  I find that hugely immoral.  Even in the reddest of red states in the US, democrats get a higher percentage than that.

With the Scottish National Party in power in the Scottish Parliament, I really wonder what will transpire in the future.  It seems to me like this election is a decent chance for them to push their agenda, which is an independent Scotland.  I’m a big fan of devolution, and if independence is the right route for Scotland, I would support it wholeheartedly.  As long as her people want it, I say go for it.  I’d like to see a free and independent Scotland again.  I think she got bullied into signing the Act of the Union in 1707 and was treated infamously in the 18th century and into even the 19th and 20th centuries.

That said, I don’t think it would be as easy a route as the SNP would like it to be.  Even though Scotland does provide the vast majority of the UK’s energy between North Sea oil and other sources, it would necessitate a lot of very careful and diligent planning, as well as an attention to the actual needs of the people, which I’m not wholly convinced any government can really do.  We’ll see where it leads.

On a fully emotional level, the thought of an independent Scotland is enough to bring a lump to my throat.  I hope I live to see it happen;  honestly, I think it really is just a matter of time before it does happen.  I just don’t know if it will happen as soon as the SNP wants it to.  I’ve heard tell of a possible referendum as early as next year — if that’s the case, then wow.  We’ll see though.

Sigh.  I’ll admit, the biggest issue I have with the new gains of the Conservatives in the UK is what I’ve read about their stances on immigration.  What is it with conservatives in any country that immediately think slashing numbers of immigrants is the way to go?  It’s not a cut and dried issue at all, but in general, I think immigrants benefit countries.  It’s a large scale indicator of prosperity — if people want to move there, you must be doing something right.

Anyway, that’s really all I have to say about that.  I feel a little foolish dabbling in others’ politics, but those are just my two cents, unsolicited.

Musings of a Chronic Insomniac

…Actually, I prefer hypnopompic rebel.  Simply said, I don’t think people should have to be confined to the sleep hours prescribed by the 9-5 grind.  I have never been a morning person, I cannot adapt myself to that schedule despite years of trying, and I sincerely doubt that I ever will be a morning person.  The only time I’m okay with seeing that godawful hour of 6 a.m. is when I’m looking at the back of its head.  Its bright blue eyes staring me in the face are the absolute last things I want to see when I wake up.  Ugh.

When I was a young’un, I used to stay up until 2 or so in the morning simply reading by my nightlight.  Of course I got in trouble for it, but that never stopped me.  Going to bed at 9 never worked for me.  I clearly remember being in 4th or 5th grade and watching the lime green digits on my alarm clock keep on turning and turning as the hours would pass.  I feel like I’ve been tired my whole life because the world simply is not built for people like me.

I’ve tried drugging myself.  I’ve tried staying up all night and all the next day.  I’ve tried getting up early even on weekends.  It.  Never.  Works.  Here it is, at ten till 2 on a Monday (technically Tuesday now) night, and I am bright eyed and bushy tailed.  I would stay up all night again, but I have stuff to do tomorrow.

I read something a few months ago that talked about sleep habits being governed by genetics.  My mother is the same as me.  Her normal hours to sleep are somewhere between 5 a.m. and noon.  I function just fine on 6 hours of sleep, sometimes as little as 3 or 4.  However, that sleep is ultimately more beneficial to me if it falls between 3 and 11 rather than 12 and 8.  I don’t know if that makes any sense at all to anyone but me, but there it is.  My boyfriend is the same way.

My sleep schedule is one of the largest reasons I was hesitant to take my current job.  And finding a job conducive to my schedule is going to be a prerequisite when I start hunting again.  If you know anyone hiring in Rockville for shifts between 11 and 8, do let me know.

My schedule isn’t really that different from someone who works a 9-5.  I still like to get up, go straight to work, come home, and have a nice evening.  I just do it on a delay of several hours, in which breakfast (if there is one) is around noon, lunch is at 4 or 5, and dinner is at 9 or 10.  I then go to bed at 3 or 4 and wake up again at 11.  It works just fine for me.  Normal.  So why is the rest of the world so different?  Sigh.

I’m not going to take any of my meds tonight.  They leave me far too groggy when I wake up, and on Friday, I was so groggy I turned off my alarm clock.  Hardly surprising when I only got 2 hours of sleep, but still.  Not particularly endearing to the bosses.

Well.  On that note, I’m off to see if sleep evades me or not.  For me, going to bed at 2 is like the average person hitting the hay around 7:30 or 8.  But we’ll see if I can make it work.  Going to bed before midnight makes me feel like I’ve completely lost my evening.  Night is such a peaceful time.  It’s quiet and comfortable.  I’ve always liked the night.  It only makes sense that it’s my natural habitat.

drugged.

sleepy.

my bronchial tubes may hate me for saying this, but they suck.  at least this bout of nastiness isn’t nearly as bad as its predecessors.  maybe i really have gotten healthier.

what i would like right now is this:  curl up in bed, have someone tuck me in or just lay next to me, maybe brush my hair off my face, and kiss my forehead.  and just be close to me.  that’s all it takes to make me happy when i’m sick.  not even sympathy, just…tenderness.  guess i’ll pretend.

benadryl.  hm.  you’re kicking in a bit faster than i expected.  *blink*

lots of thoughts floating through the emmie skull.  three weeks now.  long drive, five hundred miles.  so many new things are ahead of me.  new streets to learn, new buildings, new people.  some familiar faces.  time’s going fast and slow at the same time.  every time i turn around, it’s closer, but somehow still so far away.  one of these days, i’ll wake up, and all of the sudden, it will be here, and i’ll wonder how on earth that happened.  but today’s not that day.  today it doesn’t seem quite real.  but maybe that’s the benadryl talking.  pretty sure the benadryl’s behind my droopy eyelids and the fuzzy light.  definitely sleepy.  blogging right now might not be the best idea, but i’ve always been a bit of a rebel.  independent streak a nautical mile wide.  or something.

i miss………

my bed is awfully comfy.  i like my nest of pillows.  i have to have one around to put betweeen my knees.  i keep a skinny one for that, then i cuddle up between two others on either side of the bed, curl up on my side, and hug my soft microfoam pillow.  my comforter is all sorts of cuddly.  it’s pretty much the recipe for the perfect bed.  add in the fan blowing cool air from above (not to mention drowning out any noise that would keep me awake), and i sleep like a little baby.  mm, sleep.

*ponders*  i just made my bed sound pretty damn good.  i think i am going to use it now.

sleepy.

me in about five seconds

me in about five seconds