free association
Ventriloquists, Tom Cruise, roof shingles, bad bruise, peanuts, marsupan, wonder bread, Flanders Ned.
Composition, scar tissue, the New Yorker Fiction issue; creamed corn, slaughtered pigs, heffalumps, Jason Biggs.
Grad school, recycled paper, always unnecessay drape draper; Dr. Suess, Everett Ruess, Suptertramp, Alaskan camp.
Time-off, switched on, candy canes, Gravitron; snow storm, marshmallows, hooded sweatshirts, bedfellows.
Friday, December 7, 2007
Sunday, December 2, 2007
an open letter to my bed
Dear Bed,
I apologize for not sleeping in you tonight. I've been neglecting you lately, haven't I? Coming in late, not keeping the light on to read, not tucking in as snugly as I used to. Do you feel unwanted? Do you know how much this is not the case? Here, I will ease your padded mind; allow me to complain:
I wish I could say it was the result of some hot romp in a foreign bedroom in a foreign apartment comple...no,no...in a three-story Victorian on Lakeview...and with a surley and/or hairy foreign man. But no. I've been sitting--awake--at my desk since 8:30 last evening. It's 6 am now. All nighter. Before that I was sitting in the library. Before that I was sitting in the Blue Earth Review office, The Hub, AH210. 70% of those locations involved a computer. 99% of the time spent on said computers was productive (NatalieDee is the remaining 1%). Yet, I still have to work instead of sleep because despite all that work time, it's not enough to fit it all in.
Furthermore, dear queen-sized pillow-top mattress with rounded corners and the clean smell of young cotton, I apologize for sliding into you with a tense body. For not being able to shake the days behind me and those yet to come. Some nights I'm as tight as a constrictor, all wound around myself and on my side. Other nights, I toss, inevitably pulling the elastic base-sheet corners to the center where they do not belong. I'm sure this disrupts you, but I never care to ask.
Please know, serene bed, that this will all soon be over. Know that I look forward to your comfort every single night and I'm desperately sad to leave it in the morning, especially now when leaving your embrace is like stepping into a meat locker. A meat locker in winter.
I apologize for not sleeping in you tonight. I've been neglecting you lately, haven't I? Coming in late, not keeping the light on to read, not tucking in as snugly as I used to. Do you feel unwanted? Do you know how much this is not the case? Here, I will ease your padded mind; allow me to complain:
I wish I could say it was the result of some hot romp in a foreign bedroom in a foreign apartment comple...no,no...in a three-story Victorian on Lakeview...and with a surley and/or hairy foreign man. But no. I've been sitting--awake--at my desk since 8:30 last evening. It's 6 am now. All nighter. Before that I was sitting in the library. Before that I was sitting in the Blue Earth Review office, The Hub, AH210. 70% of those locations involved a computer. 99% of the time spent on said computers was productive (NatalieDee is the remaining 1%). Yet, I still have to work instead of sleep because despite all that work time, it's not enough to fit it all in.
Furthermore, dear queen-sized pillow-top mattress with rounded corners and the clean smell of young cotton, I apologize for sliding into you with a tense body. For not being able to shake the days behind me and those yet to come. Some nights I'm as tight as a constrictor, all wound around myself and on my side. Other nights, I toss, inevitably pulling the elastic base-sheet corners to the center where they do not belong. I'm sure this disrupts you, but I never care to ask.
Please know, serene bed, that this will all soon be over. Know that I look forward to your comfort every single night and I'm desperately sad to leave it in the morning, especially now when leaving your embrace is like stepping into a meat locker. A meat locker in winter.
It's time for a shower now then the long hike to campus. Don't give up on me now, bed. I'll return tonight...wait, better make that early this morning. I have two papers to write and a contest to wrap up.
Sleepless in Semester-ville
Anna
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