Turn on the fan

I absolutely hate going to sleep lately. I also hate waking up. I can’t tell if it’s because I love my days so much these days, or because I dread tomorrow. I didn’t fall asleep last night until 5am, and here I am at noon, in bed, with half the day wasted.
I worst part is that I really do love mornings. I think they are so beautiful, and I get so much great work done in the morning.
I love summer mornings, especially, when it’s not hot yet, but your skin can feel it coming and begins to sweat, prickly drops from cool, tight skin in anticipation.
Love. It.
I also love taking naps in hot, humid rooms. When you don’t get up until noon, there’s no possibility for a nap.

I dreamt last night that my wedding was tomorrow, and nothing was finished. There were no tablecloths on the tables, no place-cards, everything was unswept and dusty. We needed more money for the wedding, so I sold a lemon and a lime that a found on the street, which I kept hidden behind my ear until the transaction, to a bodega for seventy-five cents each. Before I sold them, I bit a tiny hole in the skin and sucked out the sour juice. Even though we had walked to the store, we drove back, through the suburbs to where our ceremony would be held. In the car I quietly confided to Bob that with everything that wasn’t done, maybe we weren’t ready for the wedding. He put his hand on my leg in a comforting way, and then I woke up.


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