The problem/blessing is my brain. It starts functioning almost in tandem with consciousness…though I suppose that’s what brains are supposed to do. But I do envy those people who can wake, have a thought, or go to the bathroom, and then just go back to sleep.
For instance, I woke the other day with this blog post in mind, thumbed it into my iPhone notes, and that should have been the end of it…but then I thought of how nice it would be to have a patch of Velcro on the head board for my iPhone, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it being lost or damaged, or having to contort myself to get it on and off the nightstand, which then led to other conveniences like having a remote control for the coffeemaker so I can turn on coffee whenever I decide I’m ready to get up and let it brew and the smell wake me. So much better than an alarm…which segued nicely into how good a cup of fresh brewed hazelnut would taste right now, and then how I’d like to share it with Kate, while we discuss what we dreamed last night, and then I started thinking about the weird Stephen-Kingish dream I had, and how it would make a good story, and then on to how I should be writing more, and cool it on the home renovations….and then my bladder was awake, and I began to become paranoid that if I went back to sleep, after an hour of thinking about everything in the world, I might be so exhausted that I would wet the bed…and….add to that the fact that Kate usually rises early to get the youngest off to school, and I miss her and want to go track her down so I can swoon at her lovely countenance, and….as you can see, there’s just no easy way to slip back into slumber.
She returned to the bedroom that morning soon after those thoughts, to find me thumbing into my iPhone, and wants to know if I’ve had a productive morning thumb-fest.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m about to solve Pi in a minute.”
I’m lucky to have her for many reasons, not the least of which is most women have simply not understood the nature of my brain. I will often discuss what’s in my head if there’s anyone nearby–and now, of course, there IS SOMEONE NEARBY every day, but this time, she gets me. Some women I’ve been with didn’t like my morning brain-purge. They have looked at me like I’m insane. Or an alien. Or an insane alien. (I drew this cartoon of that experience)…
I realize I’m a dork, and I own it.
To which Kate says, “That’s because no one will buy it from you.”
Except her, of course.
She adds, “And that’s fine with me, because you’re mine in all your dorkish glory.”
And after I laughed, I thought: that would make a good title. Dorkish Glory.
And I promptly thumbed it into my iPhone notepad.