Text exchange with Rob, following my night of insomnia and a morning of futile attempts to sleep in—
Me: Sleep, she defies me.
Rob: Well, at least she doesn't define you.
!!! A little funny, a little profound. Yes, I'm grateful sleep doesn't define me. I think this counts as a point of light for keeping Bright Street lit.
Here's another: After yesterday's emotional drain, I did something out of the ordinary and retreated to my bed at 8:00. I blogged, then bought my ticket for an early train to Slumberland. As soon as the cashier had accepted my money (for a non-refundable fare), I discovered a series of crisis messages from a beautiful friend in California who calls me Mom. A non-native English speaker, my girl (we'll call her Mistica, which I hope will make her smile) needed long-distance help editing and revising a paper for a class, by today! Okay, okay, I love you that much, niña. I'll stay up and help with this so you can get it rewritten and ready by morning, and I'll hope to catch another train to my dreamy destination.
But my internet was down and that left me with 3G one-finger iPhone typing. I love you THAT much, Mistica. Never underestimate the depth of your gringa mama's commitment. Let's just say it took a while to accomplish the task. I watched the last train roll out as I burned the last drops of my midnight oil and waved a reluctant goodbye to my sleep biorhythm, and it was only then that Mistica clarified for me the paper was for a night class, so no hurry. Oh, what a good joke on me! I laughed and called it a twisted sweetness.
I'm so glad to have people to love and stay up late for, even needlessly sometimes. I'm grateful there are people who've sacrificed comfort for me too on occasion. I'm happy I can appreciate ridiculous moments and wring laughter from them. I just wish I had a hammock strung up in the backyard today so I could laze in the shade and make up some lost zzzs.
Here's a photo of Mistica and her gringo surrogates, taken last year. Love that girl.