Wednesday, July 4, 2007

Happy fourth from the neighborhood insomniac

I can't sleep anymore. Before this year, I could sleep through anything. Stress, sickness, you name it. About 9 months ago I lost this ability. I have no idea what changed, but I can tell you that I never drank coffee before this year and now I'm chugging a latte every other day. Anyway, it's after midnight, officially the 4th of July, and I can't sleep.

Tonight, my inability to sleep was aided by some ya-hoos down the street. So please, allow me to rant for a minute.

Eleven months out of the year, the vast majority of Americans obey certain codes of nighttime conduct, both written and un. Included in those rules of normal behavior: One should refrain from setting off small explosives in the middle of the night. Why we set aside those rules to celebrate our independence from England over 200 years ago is a point A to point B thing I don't really understand. It's fun to watch beautiful pyrotechnic displays one night every year; an American tradition, and a lovely one at that. But stupid little bottle rockets that go boom when you set fire to them are a far cry from intricately designed rainshowers of red, white, and blue. I don't consent to it. And I can't sleep through it. Apparently, neither can my toddler, who's been up 4 times since the amateur display of noise began. This also doesn't help me sleep.

So here I am, up in the middle of the night, knowing full well that I will pay dearly for this tomorrow. I hope coffee shops are open on the 4th.

I also wanted to further explain my pooh song post, in case you were wondering where that came from. I've been reading up on others' experiences of going to Ethiopia. It seems that pooh becomes something with which they all become intimately familiar, both their own and that of their new child(ren). This is why my packing list has pretty much every GI medication available in the States, both OTC and prescription. When parasites live freely in the water supply, they easily and often find their way into one's bowels. You get where I'm going with this. Basically, everything comes down to pooh, and I imagine that tune will be going through my head most of the week while I'm in Ethiopia, and probably for several stinky weeks after we return.

Good night, everyone. I hope you were able to get a better night's sleep than what it is store for me.

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