The Small Hours
Or, why can’t Uncle Jim sleep?
Honestly, I wish I knew why I was up before the Sun, making coffee and eating oatmeal. I haven’t had insomnia like this since the week before my ex-wife left, when things had become so unbearable that I was just waiting, begging, for that other shoe to drop. Just so that it would be over and done and the next thing could start. But, that’s not why I can’t sleep.
Is it my new roommate, Doc, throwing me off my stride? Maybe. Is it that my “faithful” dog is upstairs in the hallway outside Doc’s room, instead of on the bed with me? Probably. I’ve gotten quite used to that little, brown dog sleeping with me.
Honestly, I don’t know why I can’t sleep. I slept fine on the couch before Doc got back from cleaning his old place. Not long enough, but, I guess, today we’ll see how Uncle Jim can manage on two hours sleep. Well enough, I’d imagine. I’ve done it before and, though I’m not getting any younger, I’m still not so old that a couple of restless nights will kill me. In fact, I’ve pulled many a long night with little sleep in my IT career, often outlasting kids younger than I.
So, the coffee’s done and I’m going to have a cup and a rare, early-morning smoke. (Hey, it’s better than an “eye-opener”!)
In 24 hours, I’ll be 37 years old.
