Do any of you use sleeping supplements? Occasionally, I’ll lie in bed at night and just as I’m about to drift off, my mind will frantically race with dark thoughts. Troubling images relentlessly wash over me. My brain spirals and when I snap out of it, my jaw is clinched tight and my hands are balled into fists.
It doesn’t happen on a regular basis, thank Jeebus. Maybe a few times a month. But when it starts, it’s an effort to stop it. Usually, I can calm myself through meditative breathing exercises. If that fails I’ll take one Tylenol PM. That does the trick although I don’t like taking a cold/flu tablet if I’m not sick. You can build up an immunity to meds. I think Mrs. Wife is up to three or four Advil per dose.
My sleep-threshold madness almost always involves harm to my family. I’m concerned that when the girls get older and get into confrontations at school (it’s inevitable), I’ll go ballistic. I hope I can keep it together. What do you do if your kid is picked on? Isn’t your first impulse to find the father of the little monster whose making your baby cry and use a pipe to turn his teeth into sharp, jagged little chips? Or is that just me?
10-Year Old Daughter:
“When I start a new book, I feel like I’m about to enter a different world.”
One down one to go. I’m jealous of my girls. I wish my pop had done that for me.
Adios summer. It was TOO DAMN HOT this year. Bring on autumn. Football starts in just two days and the leaves will soon change color. All-day pots of hot coffee. Mrs. Wife’s astonishing crock pot beef stew. The new theater season is just underway. [I already have a ticket to see Al Pacino in David Mamet’s Glengarry Glen Ross. How’s that for a perfect storm?] Thick sweaters and, soon enough, Christmas carols on 5th Avenue. Man, I love it all.
I lasted 18 months in Arizona and fled for lack of the seasons. (That and a ruinous love affair with a pretty, erotically-inclined Mormon who was “pre-engaged” to a weightlifter/ physical trainer back in Salt Lake City who could have crumpled me into a tiny ball and tossed me over his shoulder like a piece of waste paper. But that’s a whole other post.)
Here’s my farewell summer lunch. Grilled bratwurst. Laid gently into a bun with a squiggle of brown mustard. At first bite, the juices trickled onto my tongue. My head tilted back, the room spun and I slapped the table top with an open palm. They were that good.
I stumbled across this New York haiku written on the sidewalk. I couldn’t have said it any better.
That’s my thumb! It’s an exercise in perspective.