Sleepless in Yamhill County

The drunk people outside are finally silent. I brushed my teeth. I took a shower. I said my prayers, but can’t get a wink. I hate this. These nights of emptiness.

I tried to have a good cry, you know those ones that aren't drastic and just make you feel better, but I had to force a single tear. That's unusual for me.

Life is really bizarre. My summer is going much better than I expected and this week actually was positive and happy. I love my apartment, my jobs are good and people I like are actually in town. I haven’t even got bogged down with college town depression that usually hits when I am here for a week, and I have not had time to be bored or lonely. There was even a few glimpses of sunshine!

But for some reason, life is scaring and exhausting me.

I feel like God hit the pause button on my life. I have all these great visions and ideas, but cannot piece them together to make them a reality. They are just there in broken parts unable to be shaped or molded into anything relevant.

Then there is this whole cycle of life situation occurring right before my eyes. My sister-in-law is due with my baby niece any day now, while my grandpa is quickly deteriorating. It’s spooky how it feels like the two are occurring in sequence.

There is also a list of things I wish I could just tell people. Some of them are minor, but other subjects are weighing heavy on my heart and I wish I could just spit them out and say how I feel. Maybe nothing would come of it, but it would make me feel better.

I also recently have been able to point out every single one of my flaws, which has been exhausting. It hasn’t been a self-cautious, insecurity type of a thing. It’s a “these are characteristics about myself I may or may not like, but are a part of me” type of a thing. Some of them I could fix, others I am stuck with. For some reason they are all obvious to me this week.

Regardless, I am worn out and yet completely restless. My body is in my cozy haven of fluff, but I can’t drift into a sleep. My brain is thinking about a billion different things, the fact that I could get a phone call any second telling me a loved one is dead or Gracie is born; my frustration about not yet writing a novel, winning a Pulitzer, or appearing on Ellen DeGeneres (I really would love to be on her show before she pulls an Oprah); my feelings/opinion for and about people; and that my list of flaws could potentially outdo the material in the National Archives.

I guess I’ll try to count sheep…

P.S. It’s 2 a.m., so grammar may be poor. Sorry!