Up in 5 hours.

A scary story I created in the dark. *Chapter 64*

I’d fallen asleep early, crashed hard and then slammed back awake an hour later when I realized Alan wasn’t home yet. 12:45am. He told me he was going for a drink after work. That was an hour ago. Reasonable but let me just try him.

Ring ring ring.

No answer.

Immediately I decide he’s crashed his bike and died. I call again. And again and again. Times that by 12 and you’ll have the exact amount of calls I made to no answer. This spanned a total of 2 1/2 minutes. More than enough time to convince myself I was right, something terrible must have happened.

I try walking my mind away from the ledge, attempt to fall back asleep. He was up the street having a beer with his line cooks. Even though this was true and I knew it, I kept convincing myself of a gut feeling. SOMETHING IS WRONG. Two minutes later. I call again.

No answer.

What will my life be like without him?? What will I do? How will I go on? Maybe I’ll move back to New York City. I’ll definitely be single until I die. Maybe I’ll become a fashion icon or get famous in my 70s. I wonder if I’ll ever get over him.

It’s My Party, by Bonnie Lynn Felton, lynnfelton.com

The screen door SCREEEEEEECHES open and I hear fumbling with the lock and a key in the door. Someone is coming to murder me now??? Wait no, key. Okay. He is alive. Wait, no, I am PISSED.

Pretend to be asleep.

“I’m home. Babe?” he whispers.

I sleepily open my eyes and hiss, “DON’T wake me up, I have to be up in five hours.”

“Okay, I love you.” Goes into bathroom, brushes teeth, quietly comes to bed.

Approximately four minutes later and he’s fully asleep. Deep, rhythmic breathing while I shift from staring at the ceiling to glaring at his back to resisting the urge to wake him up and tell him it is unacceptable for him to be asleep while I am still fully awake ESPECIALLY when I thought he was dead 10 minutes ago AND when I have to work in the morning!!

For another hour I lay there. Heavy sighs I loudly exhale in hopes he’ll wake up and feel sorry for me. Alas, he’s out completely and I’ve had enough. I pick up my phone, turn down the blinding brightness and register 2:15AM.

FUCK.

Angrily, I stomp into the next room, plop down on the couch as LOUDLY as I can and pray again he’ll wake up and give me sympathy. All remains quiet. Truly, I’m exhausted but also too worked up for sleep now. I try reading Substack but looking at my phone in the dark makes me feel queasy. Should I turn on Grey’s Anatomy? Turn on a light and read a book? Look at Instagram?

Nothing seems appealing and so I lay on the couch and think about how bad Alan will feel when he finds me alone out here in a few hours. Then I fully spiral.

Why do I do this to myself? Always catastrophize? Worry? Create narratives for no reason that only upset me further? Was taking a new job with an opposite schedule from my boyfriend a terrible idea? Am I going to be too tired to even enjoy dinner with him tomorrow? Do I even like what I’m doing? What even AM I DOING? Will I ever have a couch I can fully extend my legs on? What am I going to be for Halloween? When will I be out of debt? How did I even get myself into debt? Why are eggs $9? Why didn’t I buy that puffer vest in XL instead of L? Why did I even buy it in the first place? Why did I eat Chick-Fil-A last Monday? Why do I feel bad about eating Chick-Fil-A last Monday?

WHY CAN’T I FALL ASLEEP?

At 3:45 AM I drag my strung out body back into the bedroom and have a merciful 2 hour nap. This was two days ago and my head still feels like a brick, my veins vibrating like there’s TV static coursing through them.

I want so badly to be present but I’m longing to feel settled. As a comfort mechanism, I picture myself 6 months down the road, sunken in and functioning from confidence and practice.

Sleepless nights are thankfully few and far between for me. Making up stories based on anxieties I create to satisfy my cortisol addiction, regular habit. Why is it so hard to lean into satisfaction? Why is it so hard to relax and bask? Exhaustion is a crazy feeling. Not understanding yet how to successfully schedule myself is infuriating. Didn’t I leave serving to get over these feelings? Or did I leave serving to uncover that it actually never was serving’s fault that I’m constantly frustrated?

Yikes. Scary thought.

I ordered these glasses for Halloween…

and I’m going to wear them with a grey bathrobe. Probably the shittiest, laziest costume I’ve had in years and for that reason maybe also the best.

My work, my work, feels like it’s suffering the most during this transition of jobs and routine. But maybe that’s just an invitation to keep trying new things. I’ve already requested a schedule change to reclaim my Sundays, my day of editing and also my day off with Alan.

I strongly considered not writing at all this week. Taking a week off, really collecting myself and coming back next week with an explanation. Instead, I hope you’ve enjoyed this simple account of the crap that creeps into the spaces created for new chapters to unfold. I’m sure in 6 months I’ll look back and be happy I forced this week’s post out of my still sleepy brain. And yes, I told Alan that if he ever misses my calls again…I’ll…well….I’ll be really, really mad. I may even write a Substack post about it for everyone to see.

Happy Halloween!

LISTENING

Did you catch my podcast this week with my friend, Liz Layton?? You better give it a listen if you missed it. We chat all things fertility and motherhood, especially Liz’s journey to becoming a mother at the age of 50.

WATCHING

Disclaimer. The Alfonso Cuarón show starring Cate Blanchett on AppleTV. I’m caught up minus one episode and I like it. Eery and suspenseful and freaky. Not like, the best show I’ve ever seen but entertaining.

USING

I have been loving the Stardust app to track my cycles and I cannot recommend it enough. It’s always sending me updates that are funny and spot on to how I’m feeling. Best period tracker I’ve ever used.

Yeah, so I’m spread completely thin at the moment. The well doesn’t feel completely dry of creative inspiration, it’s the time to put my body into a place to thoughtfully write that I’m missing. I see the changes I want to make and am in the process of making them.

Weirdly, it feels like my brain is ten steps ahead and I’m waiting for my body to catch up. I think this is a pretty normal and to-be-expected shedding from one self to the next. As I mentioned, love being present for it, aware that I’ll look back fondly on this phase but also VERY excited to feel settled and efficiently functioning again.

Hope you are well and enjoying the last week of October. Til next week!