Thursday, June 11, 2009
Somewhere in Time
I was down for my usual afternoon nap, but sleep did not come, not even a doze, not even one of those narcoleptic-like stupors that always happen to me in church, during important political speeches, and whenever I’m supposed to be listening to someone. You know what I mean. Your eyes glaze over and your eyelids get as heavy as bowling balls, there’s just no way you can keep them open, your head starts to fall forward, and then you suddenly JERK awake, nearly breaking your neck off at the root, only to do it all over again three seconds later: Your eyes glaze over and your eyelids get as heavy as bowling balls . . .
Sleepless after ten minutes, I sat up and looked at the clock. It said 3 p.m. I’d lain down at noon. Three hours, GONE. “Stupid fucking clock!” I told it, setting off to find one that works.
The clock on the living room wall is useless because Martha refuses to put a new battery in it. The digital display on the microwave is on the fritz, and the clock on the coffee maker has a mind of its own. I don’t have an atomic clock because I’m afraid the fucker’ll go off and blow up the neighborhood. And my watch is, well . . . somewhere. NOTE TO ME: Keep a watch out for my watch.
I was going to call someone and ask the time, but then I remembered that my phone is with my watch. NOTE TO ME: While keeping a watch out for my watch, watch out for my phone because it may be with my watch.
Finally, I turned on the computer and there it was, the time on the screen: 3:02 PM, it read. But, but, but that was impossible! I was only down for my nap for ten minutes before I got up—how in The Great Scheme of Stuff could three hours have passed me by? Unless . . .
. . . Unless I really was asleep, dreaming that I was awake. But that’s stupid. Who the hell dreams of lying there awake when they’re asleep—or worse, dreams of being asleep while lying there awake? Could it be that I was awake dreaming that I was asleep dreaming that I was awake? Or was I never awake in the first place? Am I always asleep then, waking only to bitch about not sleeping? Or have I never slept a wink in my life and only dream that I do?
Sometimes there are times, nay, a lot of times, when time either gets away from me, or I cannot find time because I oftentimes misplace it, or I live in my own private time warp where time unexpectedly shifts so that my timing is mistimed, but most of the time I believe that time was never there in the first place and that our man-made time is just a cruel trick because, if time was real and if time was kind, then why, time after time, do I remember bad times while the good times are somewhere in . . . time?