Awake
You ever hear a sound in the night, one you can't explain, and staying awake is the only thing you can do because your mind's a bit more paranoid than others?
Right now, it's a bit like that.
Sure, I've got my cat trying to nuzzle with my laptop every five seconds, but with the laptop screen open, I'm susceptible to so many things. I can't see beyond the light of my laptop. I realized both my iPod and phone are dead. The only reason I stay awake is to charge my iPod and give me some false sense of security, you know?
There's only so much that I can do. The paranoid blogger in her natural state.
The night and me--we've never had an easy relationship. When I was a kid I scurried under the blankets to get away from every car that passed the road by my window. Along the years I've woken up from nightmares. I enter sleep paralysis a few times a month and have to breathe rapidly through my nostrils just to wake up and get some relief.
I would think it's just this particular house, but it happens at my dad's, too, just on a lower frequency. Here, there's so many factors that keep me awake at night. The distant bark of the dog (is it alerting to an intruder?). Every step on a leaf outside (was that scratch normal?).
And especially the fact that this house is on the first floor. Apparently I really don't like one-story houses.
Part of me wants to say that there is a security system that tells me when someone wants to break into the house. Part of me wants to say that there's more risk in an apartment neighborhood than in the suburbs.
There's only one exit in the apartment where my dad lives. And how many exits are in this house in the suburbs? Three.
Right now, it's a bit like that.
Sure, I've got my cat trying to nuzzle with my laptop every five seconds, but with the laptop screen open, I'm susceptible to so many things. I can't see beyond the light of my laptop. I realized both my iPod and phone are dead. The only reason I stay awake is to charge my iPod and give me some false sense of security, you know?
There's only so much that I can do. The paranoid blogger in her natural state.
The night and me--we've never had an easy relationship. When I was a kid I scurried under the blankets to get away from every car that passed the road by my window. Along the years I've woken up from nightmares. I enter sleep paralysis a few times a month and have to breathe rapidly through my nostrils just to wake up and get some relief.
I would think it's just this particular house, but it happens at my dad's, too, just on a lower frequency. Here, there's so many factors that keep me awake at night. The distant bark of the dog (is it alerting to an intruder?). Every step on a leaf outside (was that scratch normal?).
And especially the fact that this house is on the first floor. Apparently I really don't like one-story houses.
Part of me wants to say that there is a security system that tells me when someone wants to break into the house. Part of me wants to say that there's more risk in an apartment neighborhood than in the suburbs.
There's only one exit in the apartment where my dad lives. And how many exits are in this house in the suburbs? Three.
