I am wandering around my tiny living room at 3:56 AM. Have been up since 2, I guess.
Pigged out on a bowl of left-over grapes, read for an hour, reloaded my ipod and arrived at being clueless to what else I could do, trying to keep at the nightly hush, so I don’t disturb my peacefully sleeping husband. I admit, sometimes I doubt my own levels of cerebral stability. I just like to call it, umm, let’s just say - hyper.
There are times you completely want to immerse in yourself – trying to redo the basic stuff that you thought you were made of and man, there has been a handful of moments when I have felt the desperate need from the roots of my heart to rebuild my entire self, all over again. This is one such phase, I just know it. What has changed is my ability to respond to such moments. That I no longer linger around my bed fighting sleep or being a mute spectator to meticulously detailed free shows my mind offers, about my life or just numbly laying there, terrified to move, glaring into darkness for, god, a bad long time, is a change that has merrily swung by. I am surprised I could ramble into the kitchen, hunting for a midnight snack, or open my laptop and write away the thrill of living thru’ such hours or simply settle to a couch with a book that makes me want to smile between lines.
What’s intriguing is that even at his hour, I am not in constant hunger to go back and have what I never did, in the first place. That’s untypical of me. How many people can say that? :)