I sit here about to begin. I have been up since 4:50 am. It’s 5:25 am. I have to leave for work in fifteen minutes. I will be home at 7:30 am. My oldest is on spring break. I will be home with the kids for the rest of a very long day. Exhaustion makes me crazy. It makes me weep. I planned to write about the ocean for O today. The ocean is not just a body of water. It’s a community of memories. Instead of writing about the ocean, I sit here thinking about my overwhelmed, over scheduled day. I fantasize about tonight when I can rest on the couch and watch television with my husband. No cartoons. No princesses. Maybe some foul language and inappropriate content on HBO or Showtime? Perhaps a glass of wine?
I slip into a reverie about collapsing on the couch at night. The couch morphs into a huge beach towel. The living room rug turns to sand and the television drowns out to the roaring waves. The celling lights merge into the glowing sun.
- Seagulls waking me up at my grandparent’s bungalow
- Frank Sinatra crooning on their radio
- Waves rolling through my hair
- A salty, post swim ice cream sandwich
- The crunch of pebbles
- The welcome chill of taking a second swim
- Collecting shells with my daughter
- Jumping the waves with my niece
- My husband (with a smile on his face) telling me I am swimming out too far
It’s 5:40 am. My overwhelming, overtired day is about to begin. I smile because I have something to look forward to. Somehow being tired and overwhelmed is not so bad when the ocean is on my summer horizon.