Sleeping (Not)

Stop thinking.  Relax.  Go to sleep.

The early morning train is passing through.  Wonder why we think train whistles sound lonesome?  Is this Hank Williams’ fault?  Part of our collective unconscious?  Train whistles only sound lonesome at night, though.  A few weeks ago when the train came while I was out walking and got stuck waiting for all 9000 cars to pass the whistle didn’t sound lonesome at all.  Just loud.

I need to take a walk tomorrow.  Or today, I guess I mean.  Whatever.  Maybe I’ll walk downtown, or maybe drive to the park and walk there.  That always seems a little odd to me–drive somewhere to take a walk.  I’ll just stick to walking around here, but definitely I’ll take a walk.  Take a walk and look for a job.

No no no, don’t start thinking about jobs.  Go to sleep.

What am I going to do about a job?  After all these years, I still don’t know what color my parachute is.  I don’t even think it is a color.  More like a plaid . . . no, a swirl.  Like one of those scribble pictures I drew as a kid, the only kind of picture I could ever draw.  A scribble picture with all sorts of colors.  Red, purple, yellow, puce.  Fuchsia.  Smoky gray.  Burnt sienna.  Midnight.  Who names all these colors, anyway?  Is that a full-time job at paint companies and clothing stores?  Could I get one of those jobs?

Maybe I could stop thinking about jobs and colors and go to . . .ooh, I bet I can get a good deal on a box of crayons with all the back-to-school specials and make a new scribble picture!  I’ll hang it on my refrigerator.

Feels funny not to be planning for school.  For most of my life, mid-August meant gearing up for school, either as a student or a teacher.  Not this year, although my mind hasn’t really grasped that fact yet.  It’s still in full “hurry up you don’t have much time” mode to get everything ready for fall classes now that the summer class is over.

Hope that feeling goes away soon, then maybe I can get some sleep.

Probably not, though.  I’ve never been a good sleeper.  In kindergarten, the only time I got into trouble was rest time.  All of the other kids went to sleep, but I never did.  And while I was a quiet and well-behaved child, no 5-year old can lie quietly on a mat for an hour while everyone else sleeps.  I got into trouble for disturbing the other children until my teacher gave up and let me sit in her office with a book during rest time, which I loved, so not sleeping ended up being a good thing.

It was a good thing in college, too.  My first year in college, people thought I was brilliant because they never saw me study and I made decent grades.  I’d go out, stay up late, then do all my classwork while they slept.  And feel fine.

I’m too old for that now, though,  so I need to stop thinking and go to sleep.

Perspective is a funny thing.  We all have our own perspective, the prism we see the world through.  From my college friends’ perspective, I never studied, and so their perception of me was incomplete.  We all see one side of the story, one piece of the puzzle, like the blind man feeling one part of the elephant and never knowing what all the pieces add up to be.

Great, now I’m into philosophical musings.   No more thinking or musing.  Just sleep.

Hmm, another train.  “Lonesome train on a lonesome track.”  Maybe I’ll write a blog entry about train songs.  No, enough with the song blogs for now, but  I do need to write another entry.  I’ll move on to books.  Books I read in childhood, all the way back to Mrs. Boone’s office during kindergarten rest time.

Maybe I’ll just write about what I’ve spent the night thinking about.

After I stop thinking and get some sleep.


About notthatCindyCrawford

I like books, music, movies, television, sports, food, travel, learning, laughing and sitting around thinking. This blog is a place for me to have fun writing about the things I love. Let me know how I'm doing.
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2 Responses to Sleeping (Not)

  1. Jeff McKown says:

    I think you’re on to something about train whistles, but it’s not just nighttime that impacts how we perceive them, it’s also how far off in the distance the whistle sounds. To put it in math terms…

    Train Whistle Lonesomeness = Degree of Darkness + Distance from Train

    Turns out, math has its uses after all.

    • Maybe we should add in something about the hearer’s state of mind at the time. Multiply by? (I’m not good with mathematical constructs.)

      Train Whistle Lonesomeness = (Degree of Darkness + Distance from Train) x Mood

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