It's too hot to sleep. The night, or rather the dark, gives me anxiety. That would be fine, I imagine, if it didn't have a catastrophic effect on the daylight hours which we've decided ought to be the productive ones.
Sometimes as I'm lying awake in bed trying to explain away every creak, groan and thump of the house I wonder how it got to this. I can't decide if I'm just older now and more aware of the potential in the dark, or if I've just built up so much crap in my head that it's taken the inevitable turn of no longer being able to ignore it. When this half of the world gets quiet my inner dialogue likes to crank the volume. It's like my brain doesn't know that the screaming thoughts don't have any way to dissipate.
Actually, it's more like my head doesn't care that all that sound is stuck rattling around in there with nowhere to go.
It could also be that it's winter (spring, technically, but still winter). I've come to notice the effect the extended winters have on me. It was probably always that way, but now I can see it.
Winter sucks the life out of me and summer hardly seems like anything to get worked up about anymore. It's not that life is crap, because it's not - it's just that all the big stuff is over. There will be no new-relationship butterflies, no first-day-of-school jitters, if all goes well we won't have any kids to finally fulfill my grandmother's idea of what a wife's duty is, and despite education in 2 new industries my fate seems inevitably rooted in where I was to begin with. For the most part our lives seem to be what they will be - there's just not a lot of frontier left. I thought there was - it took me two years after post-secondary to figure out who I was without school again, and then I thought I could/should start something new. I've put a lot into my business but it still feels too far down the line to have an impact if it's viable at all.
When there doesn't seem to be a good night's rest in sight I don't know that I'd have the energy for a new frontier anyway so maybe it all evens out.
It appears I'm not the only one - I continue to check the dearest of diaries of Diaryland friends and ever so rarely I'm treated to a glimpse into the lives of people I used to know. I don't know what we'd talk about now but I like to know they're still out there. The relationships forged over scrolling text (before our collective attention span was reduced to 1.23432119397939010388866261 seconds) are some of my favourite ones. The ones that dare to compose all these years later seem kinda bummed out too. We're quite a bit older now - maybe that's just life. But I really hope it's just the winter.
1:19 a.m. - 2014-03-27