Dee

I'd like to say my words have all been saved up in my head for when I come back, but I think they must have fallen out of my ears or something.

I've got nothing.

However, I have found that there are plenty of someones to welcome you back to this time of night. Which is not something I would expect. How fascinating.

-rae

Even for Odds

There's plenty to write.

      Consider....consider writing about
                 __what my throat feels like drinking ice water and then brushing my teeth
                 __my growing discomfort with my diminishing interest in school
                 __my recent obsession with crossword puzzles
                 __my eagerness to clean the house tomorrow
                 __feeling that I'm losing my grip on the last remnants of real!
               
                             the clock ticking and echoing in the room
                 __the clock in my room ticking the night on
                 __the clock just tick-tick-ticking away

                 --my heavy eyelids------       -----         ----           ---                  --                         -

-rae

Honestly. Vile. Abhorrent. REVOLTING.

Whenever my parents went on one of their many trips to Europe, I would stay at a friends house.

She would play The Nutcracker so we could go to sleep dreaming of sugar plum fairies, despite the fact that it was summer outside.

The Nutcracker is very relaxing.

However, my friend falls asleep super fast.

I don't.

So I would lay (or is it 'lie', anyone know?) for hours listening to lovely trilling flutes and all that jazz (not jazz. Classical...)

BUT

on the first night I slept over, I found out that when The Nutcracker CD ends, it's replaced with...

Simon and Garfunkel.

And not just Simon and Garfunkel,

but the song Mrs. Robinson.

Just MRS. ROBINSON.

Over and over and over again MRS. ROBINSON.

I would lay/lie/lye awake every night, listening to that dreaded intro to the song with the twangy guitar and the "dee dee dee doo doo doo..."

You can hear it, can't you?

Only now am I realizing that I really really love Simon and Garfunkel's music.

Especially Sound of Silence.

Though I'm not a fan of Cecelia.

And I still refuse to listen to MRS. ROBINSON.

I haven't even seen The Graduate, but I almost sure I already hate Mrs. Robinson with a passion.

See, isn't it annoying seeing her name over and over again?

You really wouldn't think I would still be bitter about it, but I still hear the song when I'm just barely falling unconscious.

Which may finally give us an explanation for my issues with sleep.

...and Dustin Hoffman.

And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson...

I REALLY hate you more than you could know.

-rae

P.S. (Wo, wo, wo...)