Sleepless

I used to wake up at 4 am, which is a not completely ridiculous time, but lately I’ve started to wake up at 2:30, which is. Today I woke up at 3 because a helicopter was circling my house. I thought it was landing on the roof actually, that’s how loud it was. In my half dream I imagined it flying low down my street, hovering outside my window.

Some guy was on the loud speaker: “Deirdre Lewis. We know you’re in there. You need to stop worrying. Millions of people have more serious problems and obstacles than you do. You have a great life. Enjoy it. Try to get some sleep.”

Then he just stayed there, hovering. Beating the point in. What the hell was I supposed to do with that? I tried to meditate on this but it wasn’t easy. I focused on the part “millions of people have more serious problems and obstacles than you do”. Somehow that was comforting. At first. But then I started thinking of the kinds of problems that were worse than mine and they were really bad. They went beyond relief, into grief and rage and doom.

I started thinking about the oil spill. It just won’t stop. It’s like the voice in our heads that won’t leave us alone, the drunk guy at a wedding giving an inappropriate toast, the religious lady on the street corner blathering away: spewing, spewing, spewing. None of these things are distracting, none are comforting. Inside my head I go from one helpless room to another.

Anyone there? I peek my head in the doorway.

Oil spill.

I close the door and go to the next one, Hello?

Debt and financial ru-

Oh God. I turn the corner and go down another hallway. Anyone in here?

Single for the RESTOFYOURLIFE.

Sheese.

By now it's 5:45 and there is light starting to peek in through the curtains. Birds are singing. The homeless guy outside is starting to dig for bottles and cans in the trash. It's a new day. There has to be hope.