Sherri Cornelius

Can’t sleep. The moon is so bright, and this futon is so uncomfortable, and lately my mind just races if the tv’s not on. Last night I was up till three. The night before that, one.

What I’d really like to do is go outside and talk to the moon, but the creaking door would wake the hubs, and we have neighbors who would hear me. The moon the way it is tonight, it makes me want things. Like love letters, really steamy, handwritten ones with a wax seal, or maybe tied with a ribbon. Or to sit by the fire, listening to someone play an acoustic guitar. To lie on the grass, holding hands and just looking at the stars. Things like that. But with my laptop on, I can’t even see the moonlight.

This is the last week of school, so soon it won’t matter how late I stay up, because I’ll be able to sleep till a more Godly hour. Six is too early.

So sleepy...Stupid people shot fireworks till 3 a.m.

foom...POP!
foom...POP!
foom...POP!

and then it would change to

POP.......crackle
POP.......crackle
POP.......crackle

for a while, then back to the foom/pop. Geez. They started late because of the rain, but all-told those assholes shot fireworks for four whole hours. Who does four hours of fireworks? How much did they spend on that? I couldn't even watch because of the trees.

Around one I moved to the couch, where the ceiling fan muffled the sound, waking every so often, never going into a deep sleep. Then at 3:30 something(s) crawled all over my face. I shot up like a big screen girl after a nightmare, slapping my own face and neck in the dark. Something tickled my ear, so I rubbed it and found a small, firm lump in a crease, which I pulled off and threw across the room. To my credit, I did not shriek. Then I went to the bathroom and inspected my hair, neck and ears, certain I would find a billion gnat-sized baby spiders colonizing my hair, or worse, alien spiders colonizing my brain via my ear. I found nothing.

After inspecting the couch, my blanket and pillow, and the floor with a flashlight, I calmed down enough to notice the foom/pop had stopped. It took me a long time to get to sleep, what with my hair tickling my face and every itch an alien spider.

I finally did fall asleep, and that's when I dreamed of wandering through Pamela Anderson's house/amusement park/shopping mall searching for a bathroom. Whatever that means.

My youngest daughter turned five yesterday. Gone are the days when I slave to clean house and decorate the perfect cake with frosting made from scratch and fret that my child isn't getting a blow-out bash like it seems every other child in her class gets every single year. Nope, I don't do that stuff anymore. Yesterday I spent a lot of time talking with Maggie about when she was in my belly and what it was like to hold her for the first time and how happy I am she's here. I didn't clean the house at all, let her direct me in where to place the store-bought decorations upon her cake, and took only one picture. The actual party lasted about 7.5 minutes, but she also got to tell us what to do all day, so I think she got her money's worth.

That was a lot of compound sentences. I'm too lazy to edit this morning. Sorry.

I was awakened this morning by a dream in which I was walking through a town at night, and someone was shining a light on me. I'd manage to get out of the light, but it found me again, and I got the feeling the guy was following me. I was scared, but not scared enough yet to go to the house whose yard I was trying to hide in. I peered back in the direction of the light to see what I could see. After a few moments of trying to see past a small bush, the light faded and I slowly realized the small bush was my ceiling light fixture. In real life. I wish I could have seen what I looked like, staring panicked and wide-eyed at the ceiling in my sleep. I bet I looked weird...er than usual.

I won't recount the rest of the dream, but I will say it contained a lengthy portion where people thought I loved porn.