Thursday, November 22, 2012

I hate holidays

Usually, on vacation, I sleep just fine. Great, actually. Sometimes better than I do when I'm home, in my own bed. Not this time. I had only maybe a night or two of passable sleep.

Last night, I turned out the lights at around ten o'clock, and didn't -couldn't- fall asleep for at least an hour:

Little footsteps scurrying up the stairs, door creaked open, SLAM. Footsteps into the kitchen, paused. Footsteps back to the door, open, SLAM. Footsteps downstairs.

Five or ten minutes later, same thing. Again and again.

I woke up at 12:30. 1:15. 3:00. 4:45. 7:15. 8:15. That's when I gave up for the "night." Now, I'm on the couch. It's dead silent; the calm before the storm.

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