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Tuesday, May 9, 2017

Ghosts, I like the idea

Bloody Hypnos was a no-show AGAIN!
I just could not drift off to DreamLand last night. Why not? //shrugs//

I wasn’t tense and angry over anything in particular. OK, apart from the uszh right wing bullshit and shenanigans. Still and unusually, I wasn’t boiling over with angst and fury.

I wasn’t re-fighting old, already won or at least settled battles in my bean.

I wasn’’t berating myself for eating or drinking too much (nope, I’m in serious calorie counting mode and will be for the foreseeable future. I was so good I squeaked).

I wasn’t fussing over my current lode of design projects.

And I wasn’t even fretting over loved ones.

So, what gives? Eh, after my Y time yesterday, I came home and fell into a mondo nap with Coco the Magnificent. Hell, I even hit Stage Five: REM World. So naturally, at bedtime, Hypnos stood me up. Hell, I understand – he and I'd shared some happy time just a few hours before.

At 1AM I gave up, came downstairs, fired up the Apple and dug into this cool invitation package that’s at the top of my creative work pile. I figured, long as I’m sleepless in Valhalla, I may as well get paid. Ah, the beautiful convenience of working from home.

When I finally crawled back into bed, figuring This time for sure!, all my glorious, departed friends, fam and loves visited me. No, I didn’t actually see ghosts (that’d be SO cool though!) but my overactive mind, for some reason, conjured them all. Warm, helpful convos with Hope floated by. Images from hilarious and annoying nap attempts with Kevin in the art school lounge during overnighter packed finals week drifted through. Mary Ann and I were laughing over lunch at Carmody’s. Sean and I were talkin’ tunes.
Another vista near Oni's brother's house

And then I rolled over and looked at The Amazing Bob’s side of the bed. It’s, pretty much, covered in books now – current reads, paperbacks yet to be cracked, the all-finished ones and comic books (of course). In the wickedly tiny morning hours, after his health hit the skids, it wasn’t unusual for me to just lay there watching him breathe. Yes, I wanted to be sure that he was alive – that he hadn’t slipped out on me – but this was also about simple appreciation. The love of my life was in bed next to me and DAY-um I’m one lucky babe! Often now, when I’m attempting to reach ZZZsville, I imagine him asleep there. I conjure his form, his tall self in my mind. I can almost see him there too.

This might all sound sad – depressing as hell – but it wasn't. TAB's fantasized figure was comforting as were my memories of others. I think I may've arrived at the grief point where, here at home, I can have good days and bad – not just numbed out, grey ones or miserable, can-I-survive-this-shit days.

YES! I'll take it. More ghosts please.


  1. That's a pretty good explanation of why I started drinking. Keeps the nights (normally) from getting too complicated.

    I also noticed that when my ex moved out a few years ago, my bed started accumulating permanent piles of things on it, which is something I'd never even considered before that.

    Nights are still weird.

    1. Good to know that it's not just me re: half the bed being a library/storage locker :-)

      I do know that I sleep better if I've had a glass of wine – more though and sleep's a crap shoot.

      Nights are def weird.