Two lists, tutus, two a.m.

Harriett the Hamster cannot run fast enough on the two a.m. exercise wheel. My mind races on, shifting up to warp speed. I smell the cedar shavings, soggy shredded newspaper, and sweat of pure hamster anxiety.

Getting the grease, the squeaky wheel becomes more slippery and sleep more elusive. The middle-of-the-night lists are needs and wants; worries and terrors; recurring dreams and daytime nightmares; grocery lists and shopper's remorse; bucket lists and bailing for all she's worth. The sleep of reason produces monsters, but insomnia produces lists.

Early sleeplessness plays games with the stranded desert island lists of childhood night-times, and the invited guests for the fantasy dinner party.

In the early wee hours I test my memory with old phone numbers, locker combinations, and street addresses. Who were the six wives of Henry VIII? Recite the Greek alphabet. Swing a bit from the high branches of the family tree where nutty names include Fern, Myrtle, Billie, Vin, Alice June, Loy, and Effa Dale. Wonder how many states I've visited even just changing planes in an airport. What stores were on "O" Street between Miller & Paine and Golds in 1966?

Bargain with Morpheus.  Would sleep arrive if I planned the art classes for the rest of the semester?  Reviewed survival measures and supplies for natural disasters? Changed the furnace filter? Charged my phone?

At two I start listing expensive needed home repairs, personal character defects, debts, deficits and debris. By three I'm into the fears of aging and manners of death--

• Fear of forgetting all my user names and passwords ...
• Fear of foreclosure ... 
• Lack of closure ... 
• Wardrobe malfunction ... 
• Parallel parking ... 
• Falling ... 
• Gastrointestinal ugliness ... 
• Being a burden on my children ...
• Being a burden on society ... 
• Senator Ted Cruz ... 
• Dementia ... incontinence ... dementia ... 
• Living in a box under a bridge ... 
• Living unboxed under the bridge ... 
• Falling ... did I mention dementia?

Sleep arrives Velcroed to recurring nightmares of missed flights, missed periods, lost keys, forgotten locker combinations, hairnet job never quit, marriage never ended, unbalanced checkbooks, endlessly spiralling parking garage ramps, bus stops without correct change, school lunchboxes with/without Twinkies, bikes with flat tires, children swept down storm drains, airplanes plummeting into my backyard, hairspray, styling gel, and moose.

Falling ... listing ... waking with antlers.

The 5:58 a.m. list is terse and prioritized.

• Hold railing walking down the stairs
• Make coffee
• It gets easier after that

Look ahead to sharing the Bruce Wood Dance Project performance of "My Brother's Keeper" with my choreographer sister and a dear friend.
© 2013 Nancy L. Ruder