Good (?) Morning play me

From about 5:15 until 6:30 this morning, I laid in bed watching the rain do its thing on the skylight, trying in vain to fall back asleep. I pictured myself sinking into a cloud, my limbs loose and heavy and completely relaxed, but instead of actually doing it I spent way too much time thinking about doing it. And wondering if it would work.
So of course, as usual, my mind bounced around like a hyperactive three-year-old. Idle thoughts came to frenetic life, ricocheting off the walls, ceiling, and floor — ping pong balls gone mad — and the more I tried to relax the more impossible it became. It wound up being a chore, so I wound up resenting it.
While lying in bed, I wanted my thoughts to just drift naturally, without any guidance, hoping that would lead me to sleep. But of course it didn’t work. I started thinking about the following things:

  • What ever happened to Debra Messerman, a friend from first grade, whose piano teacher was the first one I ever had? I wonder if she still has that amazing head of curls.
  • Curls. Judy! Today is her birthday! Damn it, I fucking miss her. Amazing how I couldn’t stand her when I first saw her. Hyena! Why doesn’t she just move up to New York? She’s the only bitch who truly “gets” me.
  • A silver car with red leather interior, circa 1967, parked outside my house. Seated inside the car: My mother, brother, sister, and I. Drinking chocolate milk from the carton and bread from a plastic bag. Passing the milk carton among ourselves. A warm day. We didn’t have keys to the house. I have no idea whether my mother lost them or forgot them.
  • Anne Frank had a better view from her annex than I do here from my skylight. When I look up at the grayish brick of the building next to this one, stacked impossibly high, I don’t think, as I ordinarily do, of the guys who labored to put each brick into place, but of Anne Frank and her belief that people are really good at heart. Can’t decide if she’s right. Wonder: If Anne Frank were around today, in her same situation except 60 years later, would she have a “blog”? “The Blog of Anne Frank”.
  • OK. Just imagine you’re on a cloud. Your arms are heavy …
  • Aurora. Au. Ro. Ra. Sounds like something Astro Jetson would say. Whatever happened to Aurora, my second piano teacher, an “old” woman of perhaps 23? Whatever happened to her and her silver bracelet I admired? She always wore it, and I asked her why she never took it off. She showed me the name of a man and “MIA” inscribed on it. “I won’t take it off until he comes home,” she said. I wonder if she’s still wearing the bracelet.
  • Where is Joel Roth, my third piano teacher? The one I used to hide from when he would visit my house for my weekly lesson. I would whisper frantically, “Go away! Just go away!” as he knocked on the door for five minutes, walked in frustration around the house to peer into the windows to see if he could find the 12-year-old me crouched underneath a window, pressed against the wall, praying for him to just leave, get out, go home, I’m not here I’m not here I’m not here.
  • OK. Just relax your jaw. Stop clenching your jaw. He’s probably dead. His song selections really blew. You’re in bed. You’re on a cloud. Your legs are sinking into the cloud …
  • “I think six hours of sleep is perfect for me. I think I’m going to try to get to bed by 11:00 every night from now on. My energy is better this way.”
  • Guilt at not going to the gym, but visions of tiny muscle fibers repairing themselves and being allowed to rest for a few days.
  • I wonder if Daniel still wants to see Todd with me tonight. (Daniel, let me know!)
  • I need a manicure, but my nails are too short and atrocious right now. But I can’t go to the salon because I don’t want them to see my fingers like this. Maybe I should do them myself a little and then go to the salon. But that’s ridiculous. That’s like cleaning your house before the maid gets there.
  • Those dogs yesterday were fucking adorable. I really loved every one of them. I should go more often. Yeah, but then the novelty would wear off and I’d begin to resent it. No, I wouldn’t. Yes, I would. No, I wouldn’t. Yes. No. I don’t know. Would I?
  • What will I do on my fabulous site today? Is it Friday? Should I offer cake or something? Strudel? Didn’t I just give them Pop Tarts earlier this week?
  • Fuck. I hate that that one dog, Zachary, has cancer. I can’t stand knowing that. I wish the guy didn’t tell me. I wish I didn’t ask if Zachary was going to be OK. I wonder if that’s the last time I’ll ever see Zachary, except for in the picture I took of him yesterday. Must not think of him.
  • The rain is fantastic. What a joy to be in bed, all warm and safe.
  • Zachary.
  • “American Idol” really sucks. But I’m so relieved that Nikki’s gone! I can’t believe I’m watching that garbage. Why do I care? I don’t really care. So why am I watching it? I don’t know. Do I care that I don’t know? No. I don’t. Or do I?
  • I feel guilty about not going to the gym.
  • I miss my old dogs. Oh god.
  • I know I have to take a break from the gym, but still.
  • I should go to the gym.
  • I should just stay in bed until 8:00. Arms and legs are heavy. I’m on a cloud. I’m drifting. Sinking into the cloud.
  • Zachary.
  • Go to the gym.
  • Warm chocolate milk.
  • Must send Judy a digital card. Must call her too. Maybe email.
  • Is Joel dead?
  • Bio-dad threw my Dawn doll across the room and her head snapped off. What a prick.
  • I’m not drifting. This is bullshit. I’m getting up.
  • Is Aurora dead too?
  • Silver car.
  • Was it Wonder bread?
  • Get out of bed.
  • Get out of bed.
  • C’mon. Get out. Of bed.

And that’s just a fraction of the fun.
So here I am.
I’ve been awake and out of bed for about an hour and a half. And now that I’m up, with the rain on the skylight, doing its thing while I do mine, neither one of us focused on the other but just enjoying each other’s company, I am much more relaxed. Because I’m not forcing myself to enjoy it. We don’t have to gaze into each other’s eyes, the rain and I, to know the other is there. We don’t have to say a word. We don’t have to pretend to be interested in each other. We just are.
Good morning, all!
Update, 7:59 a.m.: I’m going back to bed!