I’m sleeping too late.
All last week I rose at 7 am, which isn’t enough time to get to work. One day was glossed over because of a confusing weather day; no one in the Pacific Northwest knows how to manage a dusting of snow. Truth be told, though, I was up late every day last week. No one commented; the cold here through others off their game, apparently, so I could hide my real behavior.
And today, not able to face the morning, I fell back asleep and rose at 9:30, after falling asleep at 11pm.
The final papers of the divorce are looming. Now another calculation, based on God knows what, suggests I owe child support. Tell me how it makes sense that I have three separate jobs, netting less total income than my ex, and I owe support? Part of it is that my ex will carry the girls on health insurance. Part of it is that instead of insisting I live on one job, I thought it would be more responsible to get a benefitted position and support myself. I think stay at home parents do better; they’re not required to get a job, and they get alimony and child support. What if I can’t handle three jobs in a few years?
No, no, no, says the financial advisor. Don’t quit anything. It’s better to have your work. Really? Why?
My dreams are full of sorrow or worry, or alternatively, there are happy images I don’t want to wake up and leave. Since I took so long to write today, my dream images have whisked away, floating off beyond my consciousness. When I can remember them, and then realize where I am in my life, the evaporating contentment reminds me of the Cormac McCarthy novel, The Road, as it was adapted for film. In the film, the main character, in reality caught in apocalyptic horror, only dreams of happy times when he sleeps.
Today will be alright. I will pick up some small tokens of Christmas cheer. I may take myself to see The Hobbit. Middle earth was a hide out for me at age 12 as well, it can serve so again. How I cried when I finished the Lord of the Rings. How could it be that Frodo, after all that effort, would have to leave everyone? Yet he seemed relieved to go; both in the book and in the movies. I, however, could barely stand it.