Sleepless Night

I finally slept last night.

On Monday night, I went to bed at my usual hour of 11pm expecting to rise again at 6:40am as usual, but it was not to be. There were rainstorms scheduled for that night. Once the clouds rolled over and it began to pour, the bedroom window had to be shut which created a very stuffy and humid environment, too much, in fact, for sleep. A thin veneer of sweat began to make its appearance on my skin almost as soon as the window was closed. If any of my limbs was touching another, the thin layer of sweat that was trying to cool me seemed to become like melted chocolate, warm and sticky with a residue that would only be dissolved by a douse in the shower. Not wanting to get out of bed, I weakly lifted my head and glanced at the clock which read 3:30am.

Once those involuntary physical events had me fully awake, I realized that the lightning flashes creeping around the window shades were repeating in quick, repetitive patterns. I relented, got out of bed, and lifted the shade slightly to see a police car blocking the intersection with its lights flashing, the roof strobes firing rapid salvos of jagged blue light against the nearby houses. Oddly, the car was empty and nobody was within eye or earshot. The only sound was the rain splashing into the rivers already raging into the sewer grates. I craned my neck and pressed my face against the window to see as far as I could down the street in both directions but still could not see anything.

Not wanting to disturb Amy, I tiptoed carefully across the creaky wooden floor in our apartment as if it were a minefield to the couch in the living room. Unfortunately, sleep was not to be had there either. The same chocolate sweat began to gather on my body as soon as I was still. At this point, with no moving air in the room, there was nothing to cool my skin and I was hopelessly awake. I began to read the book that Amy and I are studying about buying a house and reread the chapter on negotiating techniques. Once I had completed the chapter, I finished some work that I had to do for the next day. Completing that, I again tiptoed across the minefield of creaky wooden slats to the computer in the second bedroom and played The Simpsons: Hit and Run for a while.

Eventually, Amy got up for work which meant that I had to do the same. I readied myself for work and as I walked to the bus stop, the cool air that permeated my light jacket kept me awake. As I cut through an alley at the end of our block, I noticed that one of the houses had been badly damaged by fire which explained the police car from hours before. Fortunately, I was not swamped with projects at work and I was able to let my frazzled mind wander without too much penalty. By the end of the day, I was falling asleep in my chair. I would jar myself awake each time I sensed my chin falling against my chest in defeat. I could not wait to get home, make myself some dinner, and take a nap before we had to go to a rehearsal for the band we play in at our church. But, once I got home, I had not even finished heating the leftover burritos I had saved from a recent lunch at a local mexican restaurant when the phone began to ring. Each time it rang, I picked it up, had the necessary conversation, and hung up expecting to fetch my dinner from the microwave. Four times it rang and each time except the last, as I laid the phone back in its cradle, it rang again. At this point, I had run out of time for a nap and gave up all hope of sleep until later in the evening.

Finally, at my usual 11pm, I returned to the bed that had scorned me only hours before. But the night was cool and the rain was absent. I laid my head on my pillow and as I fell asleep, I only thought about how I had been awake for almost 21 hours and that I was glad that the day was over.