This Is Normal

It was way too early. I looked at my watch: 3:48 AM. I went to bed early; I wanted to go to bed with my girl. I knew I would have a price to pay for it. And that price was paid when I opened my eyes.

Pointless, I thought. Pointless to try and go back to sleep.

I have played this game MANY times, and I know I’ll just lose. I’ll just be tossing, cussing, turning over and over, with my leg shaking its “restless leg syndrome” hell…

Before falling asleep, the perfume of my wife was better than intoxicating, it was comforting. Her breathing and her warmth dispelled the darkness of a project I am working on… a writing project that has been on my mind for eight years.

It’s always late at night when the words form to construct this monstrous character; it’s always when I lay down that I can imagine him as he was supposed to be, and what he did to become the monster he turned into.

That was not on my mind when I woke up, though.

A nap.

That’s right: I woke up wondering when I could take a nap. Now, you might be thinking that is the sure sign of one lazy person, but, let’s be honest, when you want to sleep but can’t, thoughts concerning sleep will surface.

After getting out of bed, and negotiating with the dogs, I made my way to the couch. There was something nice about the look of our living room. One lamp illuminates my way to comfort. A soft glow from the television screen…

This is my home. That is my wife sleeping in the bed. And, gosh darn it, those are our dogs, with all their dog hair I’ll be vacuuming up in the afternoon.

How did I get so lucky?

Truely, things, at one time, were VERY bad. No food, dirty clothes, depression – you name it! It was ALL bad.

And then it wasn’t.

I stayed awake trying to think of something to type, not knowing how the day was going to be. A little before eight this morning, I got the answer: it was going to be a wonderful day. I snuck into the bedroom to get some clothes – there she was! My girl, smiling, her eyes half-open, and laying on the bed snuggled up beneath the covers.

I could not help myself.

Automatically, I asked if she wanted me to make her a cup of coffee.

“Yes,” she purred.

I know full-to-well hell that she wanted a cup of coffee.

But sometimes it is nice to ask. Sometimes it is nice to show how much you care with an offer of coffee… or tea… or juice… or whatever the hell a person likes to drink in the morning.

It inspired me – she inspires me – to do something else: the dishes. As my girl sipped her steaming drink, I loaded the dishwasher.

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