Posted August 25th, 2003 by Michelle

No sleep for me last night. Nary a wink. I turned the light off before midnight, fell into a daze by 1, but wide awake again until dawn. I almost got up and took melatonin; I also almost got out of bed to read, but I decided that either action was too proactive so instead I stared at the wall and bothered my cat with the tossing and the turning. I crawled out of bed at 9 but didn’t dare ride my bike into the city. I showed up at work at 10, announced I was going home, and turned around and by 11 was back in bed. I know, I know, I hardly need to miss more work, but I might have collapsed in the middle of the shift.

I slept until 2, an easy, blissful sleep where I dreamed not of, you know, the usual stuff, but about aquiring yet another bike. It was red and shiny, with a banana seat and tassels and long, curvy handlebars. It also had a huge balloon, about five feet by five feet, attached to the rear fender. In my dream, I went to a bike clinic because I couldn’t figure out how to blow up the ballon. I met this nutty old guy who waxed rhapsodic about how great my bike was, and we found some abrasions in the lining of the balloon. I knew I had to get it blown up, or something bad was going to happen, so I started putting scotch tape on it, but then I rememberd I had an audition today at 6. My watch read 5:55, and that’s when I woke with a start. It was only 3, but I did have an audition, and I had to get going.

I’m not even sure what the show is called, but I feel like I auditioned well, and really, the good part is simply going. A friend of mine at work is the director, and I’ve seen his work before. He’s good. I’d love to get cast but I’m not going to be the least disappointed if it doesn’t happen. It’s just good to get back in the saddle.

My mom called me today to apologize about complaining every time she calls me. I understand feeling that way, feeling as though you are a barrel of bad news, but I told her that things are hard now, for both of us, for different reasons, and that we have to talk about it. The reason my life is good, regardless of the situation of my heart, is because I can actually talk to my father, my mother, and all four of my brothers if I wanted to, about anything. Sean, Ian, Kent, and my dad are all really lucky because they have someone in love with them to talk to as well as the rest of us, but that doesn’t diminish my good fortune. They have tons of a good thing. The rest of us have a lot of a good thing.

When I’m feeling extra crappy, I remind myself of that. I have a friend at work whose parents refuse to work, and she sends them part of her paycheck every week. Another friend got hit in the face when he told his brother he was gay. Another friend’s dad was abusive. Another friend’s parents died when he was 20. I mean, I know misery and happiness are all relative, but I also think it’s important to remind myself of the good things. What would I have done if I didn’t have my family during the last few weeks? Well, I would have coped, but largely because they have always been there.