Let me ask you this... before you fall asleep at night, all the lights are off, the TV is off, you've stopped reading your book, and your pillow talk with your hubby has ceased and you've both said I love you and sweet dreams. You've quietly thought your prayers to your loved one and got your pillow just right, your blankets exactly the way you wanted them, and start dozing off when suddenly, out o no where you just start thinking of the perfect wording for your next blog... what do you do?
This is the story of my life. I seem to get the best ideas at a time when I should be sleeping. Resting my body so will heal. but no... my brain thinks otherwise. I think of my next blog, Christmas, my 30th birthday bonanza and the things I plan to do before then, the letters I plan to write to my old teachers. As if convincing myself that I don't have to pee isn't enough.
So I get out of the most comfortable, none coughing position ever, try to find paper and pen, in the dark, so as not wake the slumbering bear next to me. And when I finally find what I am looking for, that damn U2 song pops into my head. Nooooo!!! So I try to write in the dark, but i know the pen scratches will only wake Yogi, so Boo Boo must change locations.
Here's where it get's weird...I can't go into the living room, because i know I will just turn on the TV, can't go to the computer room, I'll just go online and never get off. The only place left is the bathroom. So I close the door, turn on the light, squint so tight i think my brain is on fire. As my eyes slowly adjust tot he light, i sit on the toilet, I've put the cover down, cross my legs and start to write.
It seems that in order for my brain to shut down, I have to write down whatever it is I am thinking, and what I am writing now, is what I though about last night on the can. I have written many speeches that I would say, should I ever be asked to say something, in accordance with Cystic Fibrosis, writing letters to people that I never intend on sending. Who would have thought that trying to clear your head would be so much work.
With that said, all I can say is this. SLEEPING PILLS MY ASS!!! You would think I have nothing better to do with myself than sit around and write all night. If ever i am asked to write a book about anything, I will have to do it at night, where there is not a soul at all. My memoir should be very, very interesting, when it's finished.