it's nearly impossible to sleep during the day. the sounds of life are too loud to ignore; my husband trying to tiptoe around the room, a cat coming to wake me as i struggle against consciousness. cars racing (?) down the street. neighbors talking. every couple of hours i find my eyes opening, checking the clock, marveling at how i'm so tired but can not remain asleep. i'm not ready yet, my body says, but i finally decide the attempts to stay in bed are futile.
why haven't i slept, you ask? i stayed up all night devouring the last book to 'the hunger games' trilogy. i knew what i was in for when i brought 'mockingjay' downstairs after midnight so i wouldn't disturb my husband. i would be losing enough sleep for the both of us. at one point it was 1:44 a.m., and the next time i checked 3 hours had passed. three hours? confused, i thought i had misread, so walked straight up to the clock to read the numbers at close range. yes, while i was wrestling to stay awake, breezing through the pages, skimming ahead because my need to know what would happen next outweighed my patience to wait to complete the paragraph, sometimes the words looking blurry and small because my eyes had watered over, other times reading passages over aloud because the meaning wasn't connecting to my brain, the time had ticked away unnoticed. but i couldn't stop now. i was far too invested. so by almost 6 a.m., weary and surely somewhat delirious, the story at last concluded, i gave myself permission to crawl into bed with the characters and questions swimming in my head.
i'm almost positive they surfaced in my dreams last night. lost in a world not quite my own, but with lasting effects.
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