Three o’clock in the morning.

Quiet is something we don’t know until we’re sleepless at three a.m. There’s no hum of traffic, no bustle of commerce, it’s graveyard still. Except in our heads. In there the lights are on and we’re in overtime. Worries niggle like termites, unwanted thoughts set up camp, and where the hell is the Sandman? He’s late. Again.

Wide awake and bone-weary, what is there to do? Well, how about stare at the ceiling? Nah, did that last night. Toss and turn? Too tired. I know, let’s lie here and think disturbing thoughts. Aw-right, let’s. Thus begins another night of sleeplessness. For hours, random thoughts parade through my head, single file, from a line that winds around the block.

Did I pay the car insurance? Is this mole bigger? Has it always been that color? Where did I leave the kids? Did I turn off the space heater in my office, are those sirens? Who’s there, is someone there?

These dark, unwelcome thoughts have the pull of magnetic north in the wee hours of the morning. They don’t come with an ‘off’ button or brakes, there aren’t any wires to cut. It’s just me and them in this grudge match. I squeeze my eyes shut and force a happy, positive thought into my head; a sunny, tropical, white sand beach, a gentle breeze, tide lapping at the shoDid I lock the front door?

Pardon me, I’ll be just a moment. SHUT UPPPPPPPPPPPPPP.

ahem. What’s so hard about falling asleep? You lie down, close your eyes, and z-zz-zzzzz. Off to dreamland you go. Have the rules changed, is there a secret password now? And, again, where’s the freaking Sandman? Did he run out of sand? This is a clear breach of contract. We should sue the bastard, start a class action suit for dereliction of duty and emotional distress. Hear this, Sandman, show up on time from now on or I’ll come looking for your sorry self and I’ll bring my lawyer. Got it, you lazy, shiftless, good for nothing bum?

Oh good, now it’s past four o’clock. I should just get up, I have to be up in less than three hours anyway. yawn  Maybe I’ll go to McDonald’s, get some hotcakes or, ooh, an Egg snrff McMuffin and Hash Browns. I love their Hash BroZz-snrkz– zzzz-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. It’s about time, Sandman, it’s about time.

Copyright © Publikworks 2011.

8 responses to “Three o’clock in the morning.”

  1. I’m an old fart and totally understand your problem. The only way I can combat sleeplessness is by reading in bed.

    I hit the hay around midnight and read until I find myself rereading the last paragraph over two or three times. Sometimes I’m asleep by 1 a.m. but many nights have read until 3 a.m. or 4.

    I love to read so it matters not…least of all I don’t worry about not sleeping.

    Love your blog.



    1. If I started reading in bed I’d never get any sleep. Infomercials, those are my sleeping pills of choice.


  2. I hear ya sister. It especially sucks when the husband is sleeping like a baby next to you. What the hell? If I’M awake then HE needs to be!!!


    1. Doesn’t seem fair, does it?


  3. Sadly, I can relate to what you describe. *yawn*


    1. I’m so sorry, my thoughts are with you


  4. I loved it, I am going to share it with my friends. Where is the freaking Sandman?!


    1. Wow, thanks. If you see him tell him I’m looking for him, okay?


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