Everything he says sounds like the right thing, I thought, up to my elbows in sudsy water. I thought of his face. He looks earnest when he’s talking to me. I guess he just looks earnest all the time. I guess . . . I need more coffee. It’s the afternoon, I don’t need coffee. I’ll just be up until 4 again.

I don’t know why it’s 4 – the magic hour when I suddenly fall asleep no matter what.

Late night/early morning is the loneliest time imaginable to be awake. Sometimes I feel like the last person alive, and I wonder how many other people are feeling like that, like me, just like me, and are only a few yards away.


the disbelief of the young

When I was younger I heard a story about someone falling asleep with her eyes open, from exhaustion, and I believed and disbelieved it by turns.

I am here to tell you that it is entirely possible.


Havana sleeps on the pillow beside my own, which is either sweet and comforting or completely unsanitary, depending on your proclivities. Sometimes at night when dreaming or nightmaring my hand falls on her and she purrs. Mostly it wakes me up but sometimes it just becomes integrated in my dreams, which is why this morning I awoke with a start from a dream about an Iphone that was licking my hand.

mr. sleepy antelope

I’m so awake, so thoroughly awake, that I could lie here all night without sleep and still go to work in the morning.

The kids love a sleep-deprived teacher; I invent things like Mr. Sleepy Antelope – which is really just a reenactment of the hobo in orange pants who is continually drunk and sometimes forgets we have all seen him walking and wears a sign about being a paralyzed vet. Mr. Sleepy Antelope falls asleep in rather inconvenient places, has a distinctive walk and a craving for cheap waffles. Of course he instills valuable lessons about personal space, voice modulation and going to sleep at the proper times so you don’t walk like a – well, you know.

I think lightening just hit my neighbor’s car. It isn’t even raining.