Welcome to my own version of ‘If We Were Having Coffee’. Awoken at 3:22 a.m. by a persistent nagging tickle in my throat, I now lie awake. My younger son has been sneezing and sniffling so I suspect the same thing in the air that’s been bothering him has gotten to me, too. I got up and used my inhaler and now find my lungs pumping out all kinds of junk, trying to clear themselves. So I cough and clear my throat repeatedly and wait for it to stop so I can get a tad more sleep. As I lie awake, my mind churns and I think about all kinds of things.

I grab my phone and try to jot down a few more lines for my book and don’t find that working particularly well for me at the moment. I need Scrivener and the index cards with my dates and details. Inspiration is not coming without the prompting about where to go next. I need my road map.

I miss my hubby here beside me when he’s on the road. Sometimes the gentle sounds of his breathing (or yes, even his snoring) help soothe me back to sleep. Mostly it’s just the warmth of his body to snuggle up against that brings me comfort and chases bad dreams or unwanted thoughts out of my head. Lying here alone sucks. At the moment I don’t even have feline companionship. Both are elsewhere.

I think about school. Another class nears its end, and it’s one that I have not been enjoying. Although a classmate I barely know made my night last night when she told me she loves reading my posts (“they are so honest. You give clear-cut answers. You are more than you think and have come a long way as most of us have.”) Four more days to go in this class and then I have a month off. I just ordered my textbooks for the fall semester and my next two classes. I only have five classes left to go. I’m not sure how things will turn out once I complete this second degree.

I think about work. I admit it’s been difficult lately, and that’s all I will share here. I try not to mention work in blog posts. Recent days off devoting time and attention to just my hubby has me longing for retirement and a different way of life. I long to just be a wife. I’d be content if that was my sole focus. I almost wish we could afford for me to go on the road with him but we can’t and I’m not a traveler. I crave his company that much.

I think about how my body has betrayed me recently. I threw my back out (again), and after walking crooked for a week, my knee decided to act up as well. I’ve spent a few days feeling more like 86 than 56, and it’s slow coming around. I try not to complain because I know I’m more fortunate than others who can’t walk at all, and mine will heal in time.

I think about the raggedy mess my yard is. Arthritis and my back have prevented my weeding and all the flowerbeds are overgrown and weed-filled. The grass is too long, and I think we have another bee’s nest on the garage. The tangled jungle in the yard depresses me.

It’s silly, but I also think about being a blonde. Life changed somehow when I made that change. Blondes really do have more fun. I picked up a new attitude to go with the hair. Blonde is here to stay.

I think about friends. I talked on the phone last evening with a friend who now lives in North Carolina. I’ve known her for at least thirty years, I spent quite a bit of time at her house at one point in my life, and we worked together on two different jobs. We talk through Facebook, and last night when she asked for my phone number, she called me. It was wonderful to hear her voice again.

I realize now as it approaches 4:30 and I’m still tapping away on my phone that my throat has finally calmed itself enough (after an hour of restlessness) and I think I can now try to sleep for another hour or so. So I will leave you all and return to my slumbers. Good night.