Happy Happy Happy…

How I know I stay up too late

by Amaya Rain

The ceiling fan in here has made this same wonk-wonk-wonk noise for, oh jeez, the 25 years it’s been up in here (I’m at my mother’s house).

All of a sudden, after all this time, I realize that sounds like someone with one of those trach vibrator things (I have no idea what they are called – you know what I mean) saying…

happy happy happy happy happy happy

I will never be able to sit in this room for long periods again.

I like the night life.

It’s nearly 2am, and I’m still awake. This is really not a good thing, as my husband is out of town for the week, and I really need sleep to deal with the little ones.

So, of course, I step outside to grab a cig (oh yes, I’m one of those). First, I hear what has to be a couple of cats getting it on a couple of blocks away. Then I see a possum trying to get from my neighbor’s yard to mine through what he thinks is a hole, but really isn’t, in the fence (possums don’t have good eyesight, and I think they’re a bit on the dull side). Then there’s this huge owl sweeping about 10 feet away from me, and then someone’s rooster – who knows where – will absolutely not shut up.

It’s times like this I wish we had a nanny and that I could drink a lot or take sleeping pills or something. I hate nights like this. Add to that the lovely array of freakish animals just outside my door, and… hey, at least it isn’t an emu running around my yard. I’ll have to relay that story one day.

I think I should try again to get some sleep.