Wanted: about 100 sheep. ( For counting only)

I can't sleep.

I lie in bed and think, and think, and think. At first I thought about Will & Grace and what a funny episode I watched before "going to sleep". That guy who plays Jack has tremendous timing, and Will is the best straight/gay guy I know. Then I thought about what a future for me would be like if I were on a Sitcom. That, I think, was the lethal blow to my slumber. Dreaming of happiness always fucks up my life.

So, I got up to read. Yeah, that will help. Grab the Time mag and, well, let's see... Sandra Day O'Conner... no, too heady, not slumber inducing... giving up sources, no... Greenspan, probably would have worked, but I skipped... Ah, a review of Ingmar Bergman's first film in twenty years! That will do. Ah, it is a sequel, of sorts, to Scenes From A Marriage. Oops, maybe not a good choice. Ah, yeah, ruined relationships that destroy the rest of their lives. Searing emotional pain. Great, now I gotta read on. Oh, a doc about Penguins... perfect. Oh, they mate for life, like "an increasing amount of humans"! Thanks Time. Next issue, why don't you just shit on my floor! Ok, no more reading. Go back. Think calm thoughts.

Lie in bed... What will calm me? What has calmed me before? Then it hits...

At times like these, I would place a hand on the thigh, or stomach, or back of my wife. If she wasn't too bundled and feeling like a water heater on high, with a large amount of boiling condensation, then I would hold my hand there and the warmth of her body would ride through my fingers and hit my heart and brain. A calm would come over me, knowing that here was someone who was totally relaxed because they knew someone loved them, and would grow old with them, and would be there for them. And that thought would start to infect me, and the brain would calm, then the heart would follow. The slow rise of her body from her breathing, up and down, up and down, up and down, would start to repeat in me, and the easy comfort that a soft rocking chair always provides, would wash over me and next thing I would know... sleep.

That's when it's hard. That's when your heart feels heavy like a stone, but it inexplicably seems to rise and lodge in your throat. That's when you know, despite the 8:30 AM setting on the alarm, you are going to see a few more hours this evening. Dark hours. Pitch black. But sleepless.