Hark, a buzz . . . and then a light

I am a back sleeper.  A plank.  I don’t move in my sleep or thrash about, even in the midst of dreams.  And I do dream.  A lot.  I am dreaming now, of a sound.  It’s the sound of an angry bee somewhere very nearby.  I am terrified of bees.  I have never been stung, but I know it will hurt.  In fact, I am quite sure that I will die.  But right now, I can’t find the bee, I can only hear it, and the fearful part of my brain that is not ready to die from a bee sting becomes more shrill than the buzzing noise.  It shrieks at me:  Wake up!

Then I open my eyes and see a light.

How much time does it take to realize that the light emanates from my cell phone?  And how much more to comprehend the source of the buzzing?  Nano seconds, perhaps.  It feels longer, but I know it cannot be.  I reach for the phone and push the on button, wondering who could this be?  There are no words in the text.  Only a photograph.

In the darkness and the silence, the photo glows.  A sphere of dark shapes are surrounded by swirling colors – yellow, pink, blue, and green.  Who sent this to me, and why?  Is it a mistake?  The number is not one I know.

It is impossible to think rationally when pulled from dreams and presented with a puzzle.  I try to go back to sleep.  Instead, I wonder about the person who sent a photo without explanation at 2AM.  A stranger reaching out to someone else in the middle of the night.  My head is filled with thoughts of wrong numbers and missed connections.  I think about strangers, about all the people there are in the world, and how we are most of us strangers to one another.  Stranger danger . . . Danger, danger, Will Robinson.  We teach our children to run away.

Somewhere a clock is ticking, but I cannot sleep.  My head is crammed with thoughts of strangers.  Of long ago hook-handed madmen who lurked in the dark waiting for lovers to park.  Of boogie-men and nightmares that carry us away; of drowning, falling, flying.  Of noises that bother, unexplainable and irksome, buzzing, buzzing, and then once again back to bees. . . .

Beware the sound of a vibrating phone in the middle of the night.  If it wakes you no good can come of it.

You have been warned.

magic ball pm

There are so many things I should have been doing today.  This was too good a challenge to pass up.

We can’t always be good

I used to be a really picky eater when I was growing up.  I liked spinach (which is weird, I know, for a picky eater), mac & cheese (homemade, not a box), pork chops, and pretty much anything that had lots of sugar.  That was about it.  My tastes broadened as I grew up, but I still leaned heavily toward a fondness for cake and pie and all things chocolate, and when I was feeling especially low – banana splits.  Eventually my body reached a point of sugar overload and told me, Quit it, will you?!  I decided it was best to listen.

Another thing about me, is that in times of stress and fatigue, I feel like crying.

I’ve been really busy of late.  I’m revising a novel that has been a labor of love, but consumes a lot of my time.  I’m also co-director of an annual writers’ retreat that is coming up next week.  So, in the interest of writing efficiency and mobility, I decided to buy a laptop.  And I wanted it to have touch-screen technology.  I got online, found the perfect model and ordered it.

When the laptop arrived a few days ago, I unpacked it and went through the process of setting it up.  It was zippy and sleek and Windows 8 was actually not bad – BUT <—- (big but) – the display was NOT a touch-screen like I ordered.

Bugger, hell.

It took me two days of phone calls and waiting on hold and emailing and waiting for responses to my email, and then calling and holding again, before I finally had a prepaid UPS label to slap on that sucker and send it back.

It was the last phone call that did me in, though.  After establishing (with the third person I talked to) that it was, indeed, the wrong item, the returns rep asked me if I would consider keeping it if they gave me 5% off.  I said, “No.  It’s not what I ordered!”

And then she asked, “Would you keep it if we give you 10% off?”

I knew I was in trouble.  My eyes welled up, and my voice took on that quavery underwater tone.  “No!  I just want to return it.”  I felt like I was begging.

I finally found what I wanted locally and for $170 less, so my misery wasn’t all for naught.  But by the time I brought the right laptop home, I was feeling battered and fragile, and I needed, REALLY NEEDED to listen to my mood and tell my body to just shut up for the time being.

And my mood was saying, Give me sugar!

So I did.

bite me 2 web

Chocolate ice cream, enrobed in fudge, and wrapped in Belgian milk chocolate. Because sometimes you have to have something bad for you, so it might as well be good.

And in the wise words of Robert Frost . . . that has made all the difference.

If it’s Monday, I must be home. . . .

My friend, Mod Mom Beyond IndieDom, hosts an I Don’t Like Monday Blog Hop. She’s invited me to join the party.  The best thing about the invitation is, it’s not necessary to dislike Mondays.  Which I don’t.  In fact, I rather like Mondays.  The way I look at it, Monday is a whole new beginning.  A chance to start anew on those pesky things I didn’t finish the week before.

That’s why I’m almost always home on Monday.  I try not to schedule appointments or errands for that day.  I want my new beginning to be really new.  Like having fresh dirt at the starting line in which to dig my heels. . .Get ready. . .Get set. . .Go!

So, because it’s Monday, and I’m busy being all new and getting stuff done, feel free to entertain yourself with this really cool video I stumbled across a few weeks ago.  The Scared is scared.  A senior project by Bianca Giaever.  Music by Alpenglow.  It’s a six-year-old’s imagination made manifest – word by wonderful word – in video.  Worth every second of it’s 7:52 running time.

Welcome to Monday, people.  This is guaranteed to put a smile on your face for the rest of the week.  Trust me.

Because Washington Irving was one of my favorite authors when I was a kid (the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow fame scared the bejeezus out of me, which was thrilling, and the notion of sleeping 20 years like Rip Van Winkle was kind of awesome), I wanted to share this fun post via the folks at Interesting Literature. And it is World Book Day in the UK today.

Enjoy!

Interesting Literature

Washington Irving. Who was that man? Find out just a handful of reasons why we should all have his name on our lips.

1. Washington Irving was named after the first official President of the United States of America. Born in 1783 in New York (the city that would loom large in his work), the American writer was named after the great American, George Washington. Of course, Washington only became President in 1789, but when Irving was born he was already known as an important founding father of the newly independent United States.

2. His first book, Knickerbocker’s History of New York (1809), gave us the Knickerbocker Glory. Irving’s first book was a humorous history of New York – yes, once again New York looms large in Irving’s life – and was a huge success. But one of the great linguistic legacies of the work was that it gave us…

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