Last night while spending the evening with insomnia, I wrote this to Tricia at Faith Hope and Fiction in response to her Blog, Sleepless in Chicago.
The dogs are sleeping. My husband is not home yet. It’s well after midnight and I haven’t gone to bed, which is strange, my bedtime is usually around 10.
I have a lot on my mind I guess and the coffee I had at a birthday party at 6 PM I’m sure isn't helping.
With my new business a few days away from opening and the fact I, ten minutes ago, made the check out for the school taxes, causes a little worry. The bank account looks sad. This could be the reason I am still up, but I am not sure that’s it. Sleep has eluded me for the past ten years, for one reason or another.
I’m awake and wondering if any one else is up and out there or am I alone in my world, of toss and turn, fix the fans, turn the pillow, drink some water, look out the window at the barn through the rain, and place an order for more stock.
Sigh—yawn—the account is sagging at the shoulders now.
Therefore, I go searching, for what I am not sure. My eyes are too tired to read so I hunt for something, anything that will lull me into drowsy eyed slumber land. When behold but whom do I find in my search, but a fellow sleepless night wanderer, Tricia Crisafulli, a friend, mentor and chief cheerleader.
It’s a comfort to my sleepless mind to know that there’s a connection, not only through the world of writing but also through the world of sleepless nights, with someone out there.
I think I’ll be able to sleep now, knowing I am not alone, padding across the carpet in the dark, searching for the infamous sand man.
Good night my friend Tricia Crisafulli and let us sleep tight.
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