dancing in the moonlight

What's the matter with me? It's too late, and my alarm is set. I am fully aware of the situation, and yet, I'm avoiding sleep with all the distractions I can muster. I like being up at night. I like the prance-walk I have to do to avoid rousing anyone from their slumber. I like knowing that the night is mine. No one else is around to claim it, and so, it falls under my possession. Doesn't food taste better in the dead of night? Doesn't everything you do seem heightened just a little because of the hour. Finishing a book at 2:00 in the afternoon puts off the event as another thing that happened during the day, but finishing at 2:00 in the am makes the accomplishment a bit sweeter. A first kiss received in the dark by the light of luna is bathed in mystery and romance, whereas a bright and shiny kiss is infused with mundaneness, and openness. 

So, is this why I'm still awake? Am I waiting for some magical kiss to send me off to bed? Who knows. . .

Well, here I am. I thought this post would magically blow an eery tune that would put me in a trance that drifted me under the covers, but it hasn't yet. I like sleep, but I think I don't like getting ready for bed. I daresay that's it. I would gladly slip into my (unmade) bed, but I do NOT want to go into the bathroom and go through the rumpty-tumpty procedure that (again, full of magic) takes far too long to undergo. So, my crafty solution becomes, put off bedtime as much as you can, until you're desperate, and forced to speed through the laundry list of nightly activities.

I did set a goal though, that I would get in bed before 11:30, but it didn't happen. My brother was over serenading, and I couldn't boot him out . . . though I suppose that I eventually did. But now I'm dallying. But I know that I have to shower in the morning, and that work stands like a brick wall after sleep - it is immovable and unavoidable, and simply  must be endured. And yet staying up at night feels like I'm dancing in front of that looming wall. Fully cognizant of the day I will face, I engage in the unexpected, and ignore the fact that the obstacle actually exists. It does, but I can pretend like I don't care.

Well, here I am, dancing away.

I set some goals recently, some good ones, and ones that I didn't necessarily live up to today. No matter, there is still hope for me. I talked to some very wise women in California, and when I returned I talked to my dear mother, all of whom brought me so much comfort in my life. I am okay. I'm great in fact - in transition, which can be tough - but great. Life is just a strange thing isn't it? Sometimes I don't understand it. Sometimes I just don't want to. And sometimes I just want to keep dancing. Not actually putting my foot down anywhere, but just moving in a way where I can't be caught. I look like I'm engaged in something, and with that I can be left alone, dancing with myself (oh oh oh-oh)

I'm okay with that. I like being by myself, almost to a fault in fact. And maybe that's why I like the night too. I know I can have some quality rachel time without any interruptions. It's my time, and I can get a little perturbed when it's interrupted. Oh boy. What shall we do with you?

There are so many worst things that could be happening in my life, and I have so much. For goodness' sake, I'm going to Paris, no? Life is good, and meanwhile, I'll just keep dancing.

image via lelove