I couldn’t sleep.
I was tired, yawning, tossing and turning, but I could not find the doorway that would lead to slumber.
I sang songs in my head and tried to regulate my breathing, drowning out the headlines going through my head.
(Where is that plane?)
(Is there any truth to the theory that the brain can receive too much stimulation?)
I wasn’t worried about anything and I wasn’t apprehensive. My mind, simply, would not stop.
This was Friday night. This was the one evening of the week where I didn’t worry about work the next day, I had an entire Saturday to enjoy and I could look forward to yet another night where I didn’t have to worry about work the following morning. Two whole days of non-workweek stress were before me and I couldn’t sleep.
It was aggravating.
Meanwhile, I could hear Yvonne in a profound state of slumber that was eluding me with every
snore breath she took.
How was I going to get to sleep?
I started counting sheep, but they looked more like lambs. The more sheep-lambs I counted, the more noise they made in my head, a vibrating bah-bah like sound that tormented me even more.
How to silence these animals and find rest was quickly becoming a losing proposition.
I remembered my friend Mercy telling me to pray when I couldn’t sleep, so I did just that…
‘Our father who art in heaven…bah-bah…loud-gasp-snore…hallowed be thy name…
(My eyes are wide open)
….thy kingdom come…bah-bah…louder-snore-sigh-heeeeeee…
(that was a new sound and a little scary…is she chanting?)
This was pointless.
Prayer wasn’t working, the farm animal census wasn’t working and Yvonne’s eclectic interpretation of Beethoven’s Symphony #5 in C Minor (with a demented snore on the fifth) was not working either.
I needed to do something and I needed to do something quick.
I spoke to my brain.
I imagined the sheep-lambs on a spit, and that quieted them down, as in my mind’s eye they now looked like lamb chops.
(mint jelly, anyone?)
I tugged at Yvonne’s sleeve and asked her to turn over.
With my brain in time out, the lambs cooking and Yvonne in a more comfortable position that brought her concert to intermission, I knew sleep would come to me soon.
I sat there in the dark, eyes closed, ready to receive my appointment with rest.
But I couldn’t sleep.
I couldn’t find comfort.
In fact, all I could do was hear the overwhelming and quite disturbing non-noise that was going to be the soundtrack of my night.
All I kept hearing was the silence of the lambs.