generally i like waking up in the middle of the night.

my poetry is often about that warm, comfortable place... when i wake up in the middle of the night i'm always cozy, happy, excited to be alive, thrilled to sleep for a few more hours, but curious about the secrets of early morning.

lately, when i wake up, the stress from the day is carrying over into my sleep. it hangs over my bed like a heavy coat, waiting to be worn again in the morning.

being sick isn't helping my current disposition. i wake up, cough for 20 minutes, writhe around, feel guilty for kicking one of the cats with a flailing leg, desperately search for water in the dark and probably break a dish that i should have put away.

it's hard to find the heart space to care about anything when everything strikes me as completely mundane. i need an attitude adjustment, and it's been difficult to attain.

i wish i could shake this.