As I glanced at the alarm clock for the tenth time, I knew I had to admit defeat.
Insomnia had triumphed once again.
The Significant Other, in his forever “fix it” mode, gently suggested, “Maybe some warm milk might help?”
Warm milk, my ass.
The only thing capable of soothing my frayed nerves was coffee; the kind that makes your taste buds go into shock.
Yes, coffee was the cure.
After all, it wasn’t like I had to worry about the caffeine keeping me awake.
Slipping on my robe, I made the descent to the first floor noticing how, as I exhaled, I could literally see my breath.
Entering this part of the house always felt like entering another part of the world.
My tiny space heater, Leroy, turned off for the night, was not producing his usual magic of warming the living room.
I powered Leroy on before stepping into the kitchen.
Five minutes later, inhaling the heavenly aroma of my java, I reentered the room cradling my hot cup.
Amazingly, Leroy had done a fine job and already the space where I usually sit was warm.
I glanced out the window and noticed how everything was still cloaked in a mantle of snow.
The silence was interrupted by a bird’s chirping.
I wondered why it wasn’t asleep like everyone else.
As I took in Leroy’s warmth, I felt myself relaxing and I closed my eyes.
My surroundings were once again shrouded in silence; silence that beckoned me to dream.
I found myself dreaming of…
~The villa in Tuscany I hope to one day own, with its white washed walls, long corridors, and olive trees planted in the garden.
~The Italian espresso I plan to drink as I sit on the deck that overlooks the olive trees planted in the garden.
~The olive oil I plan to press from the thousands of olives I will pick from the olive trees planted in the garden.
~The chunks of crusty bread I plan to dip in olive oil that I will make from the olive trees planted in the garden.
~ The books I hope to read as I sit under the shade of the olive trees planted in the garden.
~The many times I will chase Roxy as she swiftly circles the olive trees planted in the garden.
~The spaghetti all’olio I plan to eat using the olive oil from the olive trees planted in the garden.
~The stars I hope to gaze upon as I peer through the branches of the olive trees planted in the garden.
~The grandchildren I hope to rock to sleep as the breeze ruffles the leaves of the olive trees planted in the garden.
The Significant Other nudges my shoulder and awakens me from my reverie.
“Coffee? You have insomnia and you’re drinking coffee? I said warm milk, not coffee.”
“Does warm milk allow me to dream of the olive trees planted in the garden?”
Brushing off his confused stare, I march up the stairs.
This time, determined to get some sleep.
Today I’m linking up with Heidi’s Black and White Wednesday.