Three o’clock in the morning

Three o’clock in the morning is a wicked hour. Something wakes you from a sound sleep—you don’t know what—and you lie there, sleepless, restless, too hot, too cold, miserable. Everything looks worse at that dark hour—the scary is scarier, the worrisome now a real burden, an impending problem, a catastrophe.

That’s where I was last night, my mind racing from one problem to another. Somehow, I harnessed all that energy and came up with semi-satisfactory solutions to the problems on my mind.

First, there was a friend who lost her husband, a man I liked a lot though I didn’t know him well. She lives in Weatherford, so I can’t exactly pop in with the proverbial casserole and a hug. I needed to write, but those words are so hard to come by. Finally in the night I put together words that I thought would come close to expressing my concern and sorrow for her without being maudlin. Then, of course, I had to write the note in my mind a dozen times to be sure I didn’t forget it in the morning. No, heaven forbid that I should get up and write it down. Then I’d be awake until tomorrow night.

Next, I got to thinking about Representative Green and the motion for impeachment that he filed late yesterday. Talk about something that looms as a disaster in the middle of the night! This could be a brilliant move or a terrible one. It could expose the president’s crimes and treason (and the blatant racism he denies but even the courts have confirmed) or it could result in voters flocking to his defense as he plays the pitiful card. He has been distracting us with concentration camps, deportations, racial slurs on Congresswomen, much of it one suspects to deflect from any involvement in Epstein’s sordid crimes. But if faced with impeachment, to what drastic distractions would he resort? I have seen reports from members of the American Psychiatric Association, and they are not reassuring. In the dark of the night, I wondered if the 25^th  Amendment might not have been a better approach. I decided I can’t solve this one and must leave it to the Lord. Still I resolved to find as positive a spin as I can and to encourage others to do so.

The ruined carpet in my bedroom, stained and torn from an a/c leak, will be replaced with hardwoods the week of the 29^th. That means I must have movers take and store two heavy pieces of furniture—a mahogany bed frame and a marble-topped buffet—and that means I have to empty drawers. As I tossed and turned I saw ways that I could do that bit by bit. And this morning I actually emptied two sock drawers in the sewing stand which serves as a bedside table.

But having workmen also means I have to find something to do with Sophie. I contemplated taking my computer into the house and keeping her there. But taking the computer back and forth a lot is a pain, since I require help to do it. I sort of convinced myself that I will get her crate from the attic and keep it by my desk. She really likes her crate, and I think she’ll be reassured if she can see me. And I’ll placate her with frequent treats.

Having solved all those problems, I did fall asleep and dreamt I was cleaning up an unusually messy kitchen. That’s not an unusual dream for me, but I sometimes wonder about the psychological meaning of it. Do I go through life cleaning up messes? In reality, I’m one of those cooks who cleans as I go.

So what do you worry about at three o’clock in the morning?