(a stolen moment to write while at work!)

yesterday was one of the nights where i've gotten the least amount of sleep in months, and although i just want to rendezvous with my pillow, that's not what i want to say this morning.

for as long as i can remember, i've experienced this feeling i can't describe. it is the most consuming feeling i have ever experienced. i haven't felt it in so long. i've grown numb and distant from myself. we had been encased in a small bedroom together for nearly two years; our bed became our kitchen table, our couch, our place to love, wrestle, sleep. at night i stood on my balcony, staring at the view outside my new home. i'm not sure how long i stood there. it seemed it was only seconds, but it was clearly more. i watched the lights reflect off of the pool and stared at an infinite number of stars that hung above palm trees embedded into the grass. i felt alive. exhausted. awake. overwhelmed. complete. that night we made love that seemed to continue until i had made him breakfast the next morning. afterwards we tangled ourselves on the couch, watching discovery channel, letting the morning sunlight in.

i suppose i've fallen in love with my apartment, and i think i felt my apartment fall in love with me.

i'm in love with my new place.
only, getting internet seemed to slip my mind.
i should be connected again within a week! for now i don't want to write quite yet while using the public connection in the club house.

overnight.

it's 2 in the morning but the clock reads 8:23 a.m. i can hardly stay awake on this shift. it truly is 8:23, but each hour of my day seems to feel like the middle of the night, regardless of the position of the sun. it's exhausting. in the most beautiful times of my day, whether i'm in my lovers arms or walking in the sunshine, i can only think of sleeping. working overnight has led to an obsession where my appetite, mood, and desires are replaced by the thought of how soon i can crawl back into bed. i can hardly focus long enough to watch a movie, or talk on the telephone without counting the hours of sleep i'm gaining or losing.

i've forgotten what it's like to be awake.

what is surprising is i believe i'm adjusting to the shift. my body shuts down like clockwork at 1:30 p.m. for a nap, and then again at 8:00 p.m. so i can prepare to wake for shift at 2:00 a.m. but i crave sleep more than anything, and it consumes my priorities.

that is what bothers me the most. no matter how many hours i've slept, i can't seem to feel human any longer.

because i dream, i am not.

i'm terrible at making posts that are about holidays. even i tried, i'm unsure i could dedicate an entire post to mother's day. if i began to speak about mother's day, i would only drift back to thoughts and day dreams that began on the topic of my mother, then slowly declined into speaking of bits and pieces of my childhood, like the time the wind blew so high, that as i was walking with my umbrella open, i lifted off the ground.

i haven't been able to focus much recently, because my mind drifts off into whimsical thoughts of making lover dinner in our new home. at times i'm quickly brought back down to earth by the thought of getting all that furniture up those stairs between just the two of us, but then i start to imagine our bodies exhausted, yet accomplished, jumping into the pool and erasing our cares.

i know how often i become caught up in dreams, but i cannot stop the feelings or i think my heart would nearly explode. i believe the absence of dreaming causes death in our lives, unliterally, of course. but just as you can look in a person's eyes and see darkness, you can stand near a person and know that they dream as you do, and they understand the pain of life, but always seek to find love and beauty in the midst of chaos.

i realize how often my lover and i are constantly questioned about how much we've argued since we've been together, and as i tell them that we've never fought, they stare at me in disbelief. they then proceed to tell me that our relationship will soon fall, that we surely begin to fight, and the fact that we haven't already truly must be a sign that there are lies and deceit between us. i smile because they simply don't understand. i smile while knowing it is because people do not believe in love as they used to. love surely must be built upon some form of dishonesty, distrust, and always leave room for meaningless bickering of what to eat for breakfast, and whether the television is on far too loud.

no one believes that in the midst of our hard times, i've been able to look him in the eyes and simply laugh, and that is what saves us. it is not the absence of frustration or reality that allows our relationship to remain this way, but it is purely because of how freely we speak and laugh about the complications in our lives. we've told each other what the other person would never want to hear, we've fallen asleep with our backs turned to each other out of stubborness, but we haven't allowed ourselves to accept the tradition of a love-hate relationship found in many couples today.

naturally, by no means am i saying i understand the complications of marriage, a mortgage, and having a family, but if we can keep this going for as long as we possibly can, and save the arguments for times they truly have meaning, i think we can make it.

if you turn on your television, you'll find sitcoms on every station about the wife who constantly rolls her eyes at the sports-watching husband, and the husband who has reached mid-life crisis at the age of 30 simply because he and his friends refer to his wife as the old ball and chain. the canned laughter plays on while we watch their silly perils, and the arguments between the two escalate. we laugh when the wife lies to her husband about taking his credit card and spending his hard earned money. we laugh when the husband lusts over the next door neighbor who appears to roll out of bed in a red dress and heels, while his wife is downstairs in her pajamas, preparing breakfast for him. we make jokes ourselves every day to our friends about how stubborn our lovers are, and if only men really understood us women, or if women could just leave us men alone! but i think there are destructive qualities in the medias perception of relationships and marriage.

i believe we have distorted the perception of what love we should accept, and what love we should give.

i'm drowning in sunny light.

it's typically to hard to tell whether i've slept too much, or far too little. this week has already seemed to fly by, and i hope the days remain this way, because it seems as though christmas will arrive in june.

my birthday is on the 7th of june, and my lover's is on the 9th. and days after i turn 20, and lover turns 21, we'll move into our very first home. it may be just an apartment, but it's so stunning there, and there is something about it that gives me faith that this new home will bring me back to who i was. i know i said this in january, but i suppose i never stepped back and realized that although we've lived together for over a year, we have never lived alone. i feel that this is what i needed all along. the sense of exclusively belonging to a someone and a somewhere. maybe i crave the simple joy of sleepily walking down the hallway in the morning, wearing underwear and an old t-shirt, fumbling around in the kitchen for a bowl of cereal. maybe it's knowing that i get to plan dinner for him, or that i can sing in the shower again, and watch movies in my living room late at night. i can't wait for the night where i need to clear my head and can simply sit on my balcony and read, or disregard every emotion as i dive into the pool.

i blame it on the heat

it's hardly 102 degrees here, but i'm already experiencing the joy and bliss of suffocating in my car for minutes until the air conditioner decides it truly wants to blow cold air. finally, when i break down and turn on the air in the house, i feel good again, and think that i can possibly survive the heat and run errands wearing jeans and a shirt with sleeves. i've been terribly mistaken. i'm saddened to admit that after the past few days weather, i don't have a skirt short enough, and a shirt low enough to brave this weather. it seems the heat will not be content until my hair is pinned away from my skin, and my skirt is exposing my ass.

these past few weeks have gone by in record time. in some ways it's terrible, because the day i'm just beginning to enjoy is usually already ending. but in the absence of time and sleep, i'm surprised at how numb the work week is capable of making me. i pack a lunch to be eaten at work, i set my alarm every night, i greet my co-workers with a smile, and suddenly a month has passed. my life seems to be navigating itself, as though i am on auto-pilot, and my only concern should be going along for the ride. how strange life is.

are you thinking what i'm thinking?
i'm thinking i should post the link to the recipe for strawnana bread.
my advice: use 1/2 cup more banana,
omit the orange zest, and don't mash the strawberries!

strawnana bread.

for once i have a complete lack of words but i'd like to write just to state a few important facts about my day today.

one, i just made strawberry banana bread and i'm pining over it.
two, i work full-time overnight from 2:30 to 11:30 a.m now, so my life is nothing like it was. (this is my excuse for not writing in nearly a month)
three, i miss and adore my lover very much. i'm always sleeping when he comes home now.
four, i wish i had something more significant to say here.

i suppose it's the lack of sleep that is causing the lack of words. i haven't felt awake in nearly 3 weeks, but i suppose that's where my pay check is going to "compensate".

i simply wake up at 2:00 a.m, wash my face, brush my teeth, get dressed in the dark, and leave by 2:20. i arrive at work at 2:30. i turn on the television in my edit bay to serve as background noise, considering the edit bays are so cold and isolated, the presence of a television almost feels as cozy as a fire place. on a good day, i work until 5:15. on a busy day, i work until 7. no matter the day though, from 7 to 9:00, i've got absolutely nothing to do, so i've watched good morning america every day of work, until 9 a.m when i go on my lunch break. i drive home with the windows down, singing, watching all of the joggers jog, the walkers walk, and the old people drive 27 mph in a 45mph zone. i put my purse down and open the door to my bedroom where he is sleeping, in our blankets, alone. i kiss him and he wakes up slowly. on some occasions he's heard me before i opened the bedroom door and will fake like he's sleeping, and when i go in to give him a subtle kiss, he kisses me spontaneously and throws me on the bed, and into the blankets with him. sometimes we fall asleep. other times we'll eat breakfast together. one hour is fleeting, and it's time to go back to work where i have one hour and 30 minutes left of my shift. so i return, finish my noon show, and then i'm free.

free to do what now, i'm unsure.