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But… but… I can’t sleep. ~pout~

January 26th, 2010

I had a whole bunch of stuff to blog about before M took my PDA away, and told me to go back to sleep, and it all flew out of my head.

Wait! I can blog about that!

I’m not allowed to get out of bed until either He gets up, or He gives me permission.  Unless I have to go to the bathroom or something, but then it’s right back in bed and back to sleep.  The only exception to this rule is when we’re going to the office, but even then, I wait until He says, “Okay, put coffee on, and get in the shower.”  Even though I know He’s going to say it.  He says it every morning at about the same time.  And every morning, I wait until He says it.

Buying His iPod Touch couldn’t have come at a better time.  This waking up in tears from some nightmare that is rapidly receding from your already sketchy memory every morning, and just knowing you were supposed to retain some of it and didn’t, is rough on the soul and the stomach.  Impending doom and terrifying danger lurking in the darkest corners of every nook and cranny (crooks and nannies) of your mind and not being able to put a finger on it drains the very fiber of your being.

And I can’t, for the life of me, figure it out.

I thought it was my father.  And I suppose it’s still possible it is and I’m just gullible.  But he called and he sounded good.  Better than I think he could have faked.  Unless he’s gotten much better than he ever was.  Which is also possible.  But it feels like something else.  Something close, but not directed at me, that will affect both M and me inadvertently.

I don’t joke when I say I’m paranoid.  I just usually keep as much of it to myself as possible.  Often when I say nothing’s wrong, I mean nothing real is wrong.  The fact that my “feelings” often prove to be right on the money could be one of any number of things.  Like self-fulfilling prophecy, or coincidence, or something. 

So, I climb out of bed every morning and go to the bathroom, and then hunt down the PDA M gave me and read.  In bed, beside Him, snuggled under the covers.  Most mornings, He wakes up just enough to realize I’m sitting up, asks me what’s wrong, scootches closer to me, rests His hand on my thigh for comfort, and then falls asleep.  He is, in a word, amazing.

The PDA gives me something to concentrate on.  It drowns the voices in my head.  But it keeps me awake just as they do.  And right now, I’m hopelessly lost in my first Neil Gaiman book, The Graveyard Book.  I’d been avoiding him because everyone’s reading him, and I have a habit of reading people just because everyone’s reading them.  But this book’s really flipping good.  Nothing’s been able to catch my attention like this in ages.  I’m going to have to read it a second time, soon after the first, so I can review it, I think.  I like it that much, so far.  And now I know why everyone’s reading him.

I am proud to say that I read Legend of the Seeker (Which was actually called [[The Sword of Truth]] series before TV got to it.  Lamers.) before it was cool, thank you very much.  I have M to thank for that.

This morning, Master got up to go to the bathroom and asked me what I was doing.

I looked at Him quizzically, as if, without His glasses, He could have seen what was on the screen, or my face in the darkness, for that matter.  And I said, “Reading.”

“Why?”

“I can’t sleep.”

When He came back, He said, “You’re going to give that to me and I’m going to put your music on and you’re going to at least attempt to go back to sleep.”

I kinda groaned and huffed as I turned off the PDA and held it out to Him with a pained look on my face.  Again, the light was off.  He took it and I laid down.  And the voices in my head started again.  Only this time I channeled them.  And I started drifting in and out of sleep, never quite capturing it completely.

It’s strange being told to go to sleep like a little girl.  I mean, I always go to bed with Him.  I rarely have trouble falling asleep anymore.  And even though I was kind of annoyed – because I thought sure I’d drive myself crazy, and, when He finally did wake up, we’d fight or something – it was comforting.  It’s cool that He takes an interest in my well-being like that.

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