To sleep, perchance to dream

With the days at their shortest and the skies gunmetal gray, every fiber of my being is telling me to sleep. When the alarm goes off in the morning, I surface in slow motion to full consciousness, the world a dark and blurry place.

Some days I never quite exit sleep, it drags at my limbs and fogs my brain. Every horizontal surface invites me to recline. On the Metro, I struggle to keep my chin off my chest as the train hums along between stops. The cold air outside the station provides a needed slap in the face, stirring me to full consciousness.

At night, the moment I shut my eyes I begin dreaming, disheveled arrangements of time and place overlapping in jagged storylines. I want to stay in this dream world where all time exists at once, where friends and family from the past, present, and future mysteriously come together and assume new roles. I could pass the whole winter wrapped in warm flannel sheets and my favorite red fleece blanket.

It’s been weeks since we’ve had a sunny day, and I think that’s at the root of my lethargy. I desperately need to recharge my solar battery, to tip my face up to the sky and not feel rain, to step out the door and reach into my purse for my sunglasses.

Blue skies and white clouds,  a dream on the horizon.

Copyright 2005 Veronica McCabe Deschambault

December 22, 2005

Comments

[Melanhead]

Oh, if only there was a way for you to come down to the Big Easy! We could share a couple of cosmos, or mojitos while staring up into the Gulf sun. And then pick some kumquats in my backyard. :)

[TB]

This is so lovely and poignant. I know just how you feel. The midwest US in winter is a bitter and inhospitable place and each morning I mentally count down the days until the sun and warmth and green grass returns.