If you steal from me, I'll forgive you. If you cheat me, I'll probably forgive you (but I won't forget). If you hit me, I'll probably not be your friend any more. If you kick my dog, well, you really don't want to go there.
The only time I have felt true blood lust is when I have been sleep deprived. I feel a slathering beast within myself saying "KILL KILL KILL".
Now, when I was younger, I was much more tolerant and I have two un-maimed, alive, and healthy adult children to prove it. For the last twenty years or so, I have lost most of my tolerance for being awakened for no good reason. Okay, I'm lying. Even if there is a good reason, don't wake me.
Several years ago, I was staying at my mom's because she had surgery on her wrist. I was going to sleep on the torture rack sofa in her small one bedroom apartment in a senior housing development located about an hour from my home. My husband and I had gotten her to the surgery center at 4 AM, for her surgery. She was released to go home about 6 PM that evening. (Point being, it had been a long day.)
We got mom to her apartment and Alex left as there really was no place to sleep except the torture rack. I got her settled into bed with a dinner tray and the television on. Right after dinner, she started saying that the pain was horrid so I called her doctor. He ordered her a stronger medication, and I walked the 6 blocks to the pharmacy to get her pills. By this time, it was nearly 10 PM. I was getting shaking tired.
I finally drugged mom, and lay down on the couch. I was just getting that wonderful tingly feeling that comes over me when I'm just about to fall asleep. The overhead light came on and mom is searching for papers on the coffee table next to where I am trying to sleep. My mother is talking to me too. Prattling about something she had seen on television. I was fighting hard not to strangle her.
She went back to bed for about 15 minutes and came back in. Same scenario. My heart was racing and I truly thought about committing a capital crime. Somehow, we both made it through the night alive. I'm sure she never knew how close she came to getting murdered.
My husband Alex sets his alarm for 5:45 AM. The alarm rings every morning and he hits the snooze button, not once, not twice, but 4 or 5 times. By that time, I am awake. I do not need to get up at 5:45 in the morning. I much prefer to sleep until 9 AM and he knows this. But that frigging alarm thing makes me see images of him in a coffin and feel like that's a happy solution for me.
Is it too much to ask to let me sleep?
