I had an odd experience this morning and used it for today’s writing practice. Enjoy!

The bedroom is dark. I’ve just removed my eye mask and stood up from my bed. I slowly creep my way to the bathroom, like a drunken sailor, and look at my watch. It’s 4:24. I turn on the closet light and sit on the toilet. I don’t turn on the bathroom light because it’s too much light and I don’t want to leave my sleepy state. I fear falling asleep on the toilet. I put my face in my hands as I relieve myself. I’m still so tired, but the bladder wins every time. Once I’m done, I wash my hands and slowly walk back to my side of the bed. I always love this part. You’re chilled when the air in the room hits your bare skin, until you climb back under the covers, still warm from when you left them minutes ago. Except when you reach to pull up the covers, instead of finding the fuzzy fleece, your hand touches a warm mass of fur. You are confused. You feel around the fur, it’s long, and it’s slowly moving up and down. It’s breathing. It’s your golden retriever, who in your brief absence from the bed has taken your place. You quickly shoo her out of the bed, where she knows she is not allowed. When you climb into bed you find your pillow is not laid horizontally as you left it, but vertically. Like a savage. And now you are just fuming with rage at the audacity someone had to alter your sacred sleeping space. Who knows? Maybe it was me. Maybe it was the dog. It doesn’t matter, I’m mad at the world and my heart is racing. I’m wrapped in this warm fleece blanket again, sans dog, and I need to find a way to get back to sleep, because the sun is still hours away from rising. And it’s Saturday, for Pete’s sake. Slow breathing, think of other things. It’s fine. Your body is comfortable again, in a relaxed state. Let your mind join in. Sleep will come.

That was fun to write, but I wasn’t sure how to end it. I’ve never been great at landing the plane. Practice, Mel. Practice. This is fun!