Endless Days and Sleepless Nights…Numb Fingers Too Dead to Write…
Posted by Layla Winterborne on Tuesday, 26 January, 2010 @ 11:25 pm
The days which once ebbed and flowed together in a delightful blur have become jerky and mangled in their flow. Once beautiful in it’s own surreal fashion, I am approaching a month of minimal sleep which instead of turning me into a productive and poetic insomniac, as it often times is wont to do, I have become a mind numbed zombie whose only desire is to laze about, not quite taking in the images displayed in the soft glow of the television in front of me.
I am not an avid tv watcher.
Reading and social networking seem to require more effort and strength than I currently possess and my writing has fallen by the wayside. Cory blames the majority of this sudden turn inward on work and the loathing which I feel towards it…and I am apt to agree.
Though I try to not let work interfere with my personal life, it is beginning to take its toll. 14 hour days at a place that I hate…arriving home exhausted and not being greeted by sleep because you dread tomorrow…
My creativity has been sapped.
I have found, though, that in my stupor I spend more time talking to the animals who share this house with me. However, I do not talk to them as though they were babies. I just can’t do it. Hell, I don’t even talk to babies like they’re babies. I often times find myself addressing children as if they were adults. Baby talk is grating to the ear and it makes me uncomfortable talking to “Wittle Wobby Wob” and looking for his “binky”. *shudder*
As a child, I was obsessed with proving that I was a smart as the adults. Even now there are days in which I feel that this is something that still must be proven. Every year, as the clock of life moves another year forward, I find myself promising that this year will different…that 21 will be the year in which I will be viewed as “an adult”…22 will be the year…23…
Yet, why do I still feel like such a child? Because in my own way I am foolish?
Anyway…
I DO talk with the animals, though. A LOT.
The ruler of the house, Zeus, is the one with whom I have the majority of my conversations. He is always more than willing to sit and listen politely as I discuss books and my love for raspberries and give him advice on his life. He is a terrible begger of food and instead of yelling at him (because he is terribly adorable), I attempt to have rational conversations with him about his addiction.
I’m constantly trying to help with his problem, and, you know, of course he doesn’t respond. He’s a dog. The most I’m apt to get out of him is a look of eager hope asking “Hunk of cheese? Ham? Even that boiled egg would do!”
I’ve been approached by several people, commenting that my talking to the dog about his problems is actually quite crazy in itself and I understand this. While I do ask open ended questions, I realize that he will never understand me on any type of meaningful level and…even if he did…he could never respond…
I was told that talking to the dog was folly…that these conversations aren’t REAL…
…and I’m no atheist but…
The damn dog is RIGHT THERE…begging for cold cuts right at mine and your feet. If you and I are real then so is he. We are all on the same basic level of REAL.
A dog in the hand equals two invisible beings in the bush.
The dog does not speak ENGLISH but at least he IS.
January 27th, 2010 at 1:19 am
I love listening to your insomniac mind. It makes no sense but makes complete sense all at the same time.
January 28th, 2010 at 4:32 pm
So you were totes in my dream last night. Cory and his brother (well how I picture him, and someone else I can’t remember) were there too.
It was really trippy and weird, it started out at your place and we were just hanging out, then suddenly there was a knock at the door and I went to look out the window to see who was there, and it was Cory’s brother. For some reason we were really scared about him being there and didn’t want to answer the door, but he broke it down and was erupting with anger. Well next thing I know we are in his truck, which is like super suave and fancy, and we are driving. Eventually we get to where we are going and we switch trucks for some reason. Well we end up in this “water park” which was really just a swimming pool, but I do remember that while we were driving I asked how much Schlittterbaun was and you answered so I am inclined to assume that the swimming pool was Schlitterbaun, but I am not sure. Well we swim for a while until some huge thunder clouds start to roll in. Well this is where the dream switches into something else completely (as so many do). A bunch of people, who I assume are you all but not really you guys, and I are in a big field next to this house and we are waiting for “lightning” to stick the ground around us. We are doing this because the lightning is more like electric comets that have prizes inside, so we are running around, racing to each impact-site trying to get to the prizes first. Well then the dream switches again and for some reason I nam in the big house with people who are meant to represent my family I guess, but they aren’t. Well we are trying ton protect me from getting kidnapped by some really bad people. From here, the dream gets very erratic and choppy, I was beginning to wake up, but I know that at one point the power in the house went out and the bad guys got me but I had some sort of super power and fought them off until they did something to block or rid me of my powers. I may have been saved, I am not sure, but I do remember that the whole time there was a lightning storm going on, except that there was no thunder.
Just thought I would share that with you.
Love you Sexay Mamma!
January 28th, 2010 at 4:44 pm
OH! I loved this entry, it was really entertaining! Hope the next one won’t take a week… *coughcough*
I love you baby boo!
February 3rd, 2010 at 2:02 am
I’ve read this post so many times when insomnia has struck in the past week.
And then I talk to my puppy and tell her goodnight. xo
February 3rd, 2010 at 2:26 pm
Awww, I know how you feel. My work is sucking me dry, too. I hate it. I want to go to work and be inspired, inspire others, and just learn and progress and accomplish. But sadly, that is not what happens at work. I arrive at my desk and proceed to push paper after paper in a routine that has begun to feel something like what I would imagine it would be like to stick my brain in a bowl of bleach. Yup. It’s that boring. I’m so over it–I want more!! Eh. Soon enough.
And, your dog stories? Too cute. I would talk to my dog too, if I had one.