NaBloPoMo Up All Night

There are times I cannot go to sleep. It's late, but yet there are one or two more things I just have to do. Read a book, read a blog, write a blog, fold the laundry, sort the dishes, have a snack, write that email, write that book, think that thought, make a list. One more thing, one more thing.

But it all comes back to me in the end. All those hours stolen from late at night must be repaid in the morning and throughout the day. A promise or a threat? And when will it ever get paid back? Sometimes I cannot allow myself to lie down and rest until I am swaying on my feet, exhausted. When I can fall into bed and be engulfed in sleep almost immediately, it's less painful to let the day go. All the things left undone. All the dreams left unsung. All the tasks piled up for another day.

Daily I chip away at my list. Daily, I fail to do it all. I know this is impossible, but still I try.

Before bed, I sit down with a cup of tea, and I make another list. It's soothing to make a fresh list, to see the possibility of a few more things checked off.

To sleep with things undone is a hazard of parenthood. Oh, yes, of adulthood, of life! Where do I snatch a few moments her, a half an hour there? It's stitching together a meaningful life, a full life.

No need to fret about tasks undone just now. It'll be a new day soon, a fresh list, fresh light, a new start.

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