Thanksgiving Night

Booby-Trap Update--The child goes back to school on Monday.

I awoke from startlingly bad dreams about 2:30 a.m. this morning and couldn't fall back asleep. I couldn't really recall what the dreams were about exactly, just that they had something to do with the Architectural Digest. I squinted-then-scowled at the library clock above the mantle as I walked myself past the living room and into my would-be library to find my laptop. I've learned from experience that late at night, when I can't find sleep, and my three melatonin tablets aren't doing their supplemental jobs, scanning craigslist ads is the best medicine. I start out in the pets section, looking at puppies, and then on to the furniture to look for velvet couches and library desks.

On this night, though, this just wasn't doing the trick. I took up the book I'm currently reading (The Law of Love by Laura Esqivel), and found a place on the couch in the living room. I started reading it when I was stationed in Italy in the military over a decade ago, and I can't remember why I didn't finish it back then. Sometimes it feels good to go back and finish up a book that I put down years ago...it gives me the idea that maybe, somehow, I wasn't "ready" for it the first time and that I sub-consciously created circumstances that would avert my attention--so that when I could truly appreciate a book's message, truly understand it, I would retrieve it from its shelf and try it again.

The light was too dim, and I strained to read in the dark because I couldn't be bothered to reach for the lamp. It reminded me of a story I had read once about Abe Lincoln's childhood in which he had to read by candlelight every night. My dog stretched out, leaving me almost falling off the side of the couch, but I didn't mind much. After about an hour of reading, my eyes were adequately scratchy to signal a want of sleep, so I turned back toward bed, sleeping in until 8 a.m. I'm still left wondering about my Architectural Digest nightmares.