Five things I think about through the long night

I’ve had an insidious cold for the last week, full of the usual sneezing and sniffling, but with an additional determined cough. I’ve been coughing enough that my ribs and abdominal muscles are sore. Yuck. What’s more, the cough gets worse at night, therefore falling asleep is a careful dance between becoming comfortable and remaining still, so I don’t trigger another coughing fit. You know all about this kind of thing, having suffered colds yourself.

What’s been interesting in this sleeplessness is that I’m not experiencing my usual frustration with insomnia; reading about second sleep has helped tremendously. I know I’ll fall asleep soon enough. Instead I’m taking this as an opportunity to let my mind wander and it’s going to some interesting places. Here are some of the things I’ve been considering in the middle of the might while I wait for sleep to conquer the cough.

5. The next thing I will write in NaNoWriMo. In the past I’ve had insomnia worrying about this month long writing event, but lately I’ve just been imagining my characters in new ways. I never knew fire sprites looked so fetching in Hawaiian shirts.  

4. What animal does my beloved sound like tonight? You might say he snores. I’d say he does a stunning sleep rendition of a purring tiger. Or a content capybara. Or maybe a distant revving motorcycle, preparing to propel its rider over the Grand Canyon or a Martian canal. 

3. Imagining places I’d like to go but am unlikely to get to. I shift through time and space, exploring the library of Alexandria. I dance in a ball at Pemberly. I walk through the bazaars on the Silk Road. 

2. I listen to my heartbeat and imagine music surrounding it. 

1. Lastly, and mot importantly, zombie fortification. How could I make my home safe from a zombie attack? I considered this quite seriously for a long time last night. My conclusion was that I was probably doomed.

And then I finally fell asleep, dreaming of the undead fiddling with lock picks and dropping their fingers. Ah, insomnia, bringer of strange dreams and stranger reveries. 

(c)2013 Laura S. Packer