Sunday Scribblings #52 – My Nights
How long has it been that I’ve been remembering my nights?
A perfectly square Kodak memory of my twin sister and I huddled together in a arm chair is my first memory of night.
She in her Ernie hoodie, and me in my Bert hoodie were fan-clubbing a special Sesamie Street episode from the warmth of our togetherness.
Were were maybe 4 or 5 years old…
When I was about 6 years old, giant Holly Hobby’s wallpapered around my room haunted my nights.
The magnitude of Holly and her clones came to life in my dreams and were too real for my little brain to handle.
Nearing the pre-teen years, there were the sleep-over nights.
Those times that we smoked newspaper “cigarettes” in the basement,
and then in the summertime snuck out of backyard tents and got caught by Mr. & Mrs. Doudiet.
When that got boring, there was the sneaking out at night to go to the donut shop,
put some money in the cigarette machine, and take a first stab at inhaling tar and nicotine.
Thank god that didn’t last…
Then the nights of “I’m sleeping over at Lori Day’s house” when really
there were rendez-vous in the making (as I recall, I did get caught for that!).
Thank god contraception was involved…
In my early 20s, the obsession with academic excellence filled my nights.
I’d fall asleep studying, hoping to solidify the day’s learnings through my dreams.
Days turned into nights and studiousness was a full-time job…
In my late 20s and early 30s, the obsession with exercise robbed my nights.
I’d will myself to wake up at the prescribed 3 or 4 am (depending on the day).
Careful not to disturb my love,
I’d wear a stop watch with a day-glo light
That I could draw towards my near-blind eyes
to ensure that I wasn’t cheating my body of precious work-out time.
Thank god that also didn’t last.
And now, in my mid-30s.
My nights are filled a frenzy of work, email, face-booking and reading.
That, in combination with my sleep disorder (Peridodic Limb Movement Disorder) mean that my supine time (i.e., in bed) is not the most restful. And that is why I cannot sleep with my beloved,
and why we have now resorted to a Ward and June Cleaver type of sleeping arrangement.
My nights through the ages.
There they are.
That was a blast, that trip! Real as it gets. Realer than real. Pretty much, with the exception of Holly Hobby and academic aspirations, I was checking it all off, the teen stuff, the exercise obsession, the thank gods…oh but not the sleep disorder thank god! I like the Cleavers but… Well you grew into PLMS…maybe you’ll grow back out!
Very well written. I enjoyed all of it.
I think June and Ward had a great set up. 😉 My hubby does not cuddle and he moves alot!
I’m sorry about your disturbed REM sleep. 🙁
Interesting night journies!
“A perfectly square Kodak memory of my twin sister and I huddled together in a arm chair is my first memory of night.”
Interestingly, I found that quite a lovely way of saying photograph.
Well written
I liked reading this. Nights, at times are haunting.
nocturnal
Those sound like memorable nights indeed, they always have something special about them that make things better/worse than what happens during the day.
I know a few people with your sleeping problem. Do you know what causes it?