Babblings of an Insomniac

I cannot sleep. Over the course of Spring Break, I have gotten into the habit of going to bed at 10:30-11ish. Quite a good habit to get into when in need of sleep. However, I find that tonight sleep escapes me. It is a night when everything seems to be against my getting any rest. There is a cricket chirping outside my window whose lullaby, usually so sweet, is nothing but grating to my ears. He will go quiet and then, just as soon as I think myself ready to forgive his former annoyance, start up as loudly and persistently as cricket-ly possible. My glow-in-the-dark Converse, whose faint glow generally causes no trouble, nag at the peripherals of my vision, even with eyes shut tight. Try as I might to push thoughts from my conscious mind, they crowd back with a vengeance, vying for space to parade before my eye-lids and remind me of all that needs to be done. I suppose forcing the mind into a quiescent state works against itself. The sheep have departed, most probably fatigued from jumping the fence so many times. I don't blame them. They were getting over-worked.

Wandering wraith-like through the house does me no good, serving only to remind me of my solitude at an hour so late. The deathly quiet permeates into my very being; I no longer know if I remember how to make a noise. The clicking of knitting needles does not soothe a restless spirit. Nor does the muffled ruffling of turning pages. The hum of the computer sitting atop my lap and the constant clicking of keys is doing naught but increase my growing headache. And yet, what else is there to do when the rest of the house is sleeping? Hot tea, an all-curative, requires the whistling of a kettle. Musical instruments are quite obviously sonant. Mindless television is a waste of time, whether there is time to be wasted or not. Be there any cure for an insomniac?

I find myself complaining about being awake. Or, if complaining is the wrong word, lamenting works just as easily. Perhaps I should veer to a more light-hearted subject? How about guitar chords? Yes, yes. I think that shall suit just fine... Of late, I have been playing the guitar more oft than usual. I find it not only a calming release, but also a useful instrument. Mandy mentioned to me several months ago that she greatly enjoyed playing worship songs because she found that the chord progressions generally fit the way they were to be sung. I now find this statement to be entirely accurate. With most songs containing the same chords, worship music seems an excellent (and simplistic) form of praise, any time or place. "Enough" and "God of Wonders" have quickly become two of my favorites. If only I could learn to play piano chords! hmph. Though I love the piano, its soft tone and delicate airs, powerful harmonies and underlying rhythm, I'm surprisingly finding the guitar much easier to pick up. Unfortunately, no instrument is at the moment anything near a priority compared to this last quarter of Sophomore year.

Let it be over! I realize that I am only a Sophomore and should be enjoying high school; reveling in being a teenager and not yet having to start a career or pay taxes. However, I find myself longing for adult-hood. (And no, not just to vote President Obama out of office.) High school grows monotonous and insipid. It seems to be only an interim period before life can start and I can "go my own way", so to speak. Okay, I realize I am making absolutely no sense now. Just let it be known that I would graduate tomorrow in a heartbeat and let it be done with if given the chance.

This post is getting quite long... Meaghan will probably have given up reading several paragraphs ago. For the sake of my readers, I shall be done. Wish me luck! I'm off to once again attempt to slip into a peaceful slumber... I don't have too high a hope.