It's What Time, Again?

I wandered through the house at 4:30 this morning, checking locks, watching the rain, listening to Mom breathe.

This isn't at all an unusual occurance. In fact, it is so much my "normal" that it's kind of boring.

I had not fallen asleep yet.

Molly had had her final potty break, Mom was lightly snoring, and I was, as usual, wide awake.

In the last week, I have been dealing with a bout of vertigo. Never fun, it has often been associated with migraine headaches or sinus or ear infections. But I don't feel sick this time. Just dizzy. It's lasted longer than usual. I'm not sure what to make of it.

Naturally, being awake does not help.

I have a case of the "What-ifs".

Well...according to WebMD, vertigo is unlikely a sign of a brain tumor. So, that's good news. I guess.

Honestly, I sometimes wonder if my insomnia hasn't been influenced by something otherworldly.

Am I afraid of things that go bump in the night?

Monsters?

Ghosts?

Clowns?

Oh, yeah. I HATE clowns. I always have. They are creepy. What's under all that paint, anyway? What are they trying to hide?

I don't really believe that killer clowns are coming to eat me. Even in the deepest darkest hours of the night, I don't believe that.

But...well...I don't NOT believe that, either. Because at 3:00 a.m. anything can happen.

Anything.

One must be diligent. Watchful. Aware.

Am I right?

I mean, I have a mother to protect. She can't run. I have a little tiny dog who could only reasonably be expected to hide under the covers and quiver. It's all up to me.

Before now, it was my siblings. Don't let anything get them.

Then it was my children.

My grandchildren.

I'm the only thing between them and...killer clowns.

No wonder I can't sleep.

And if it's not clowns, it's the damned dentist.

Again, am I right?

Thinking about the horrors of my next dental appointment is always enough to keep my eyes wide open.

Admit it, this is the most horrifying of horror movie scenes:

Really, why would I need something like a ghost to scare me awake when we have all these real-life horrors to contend with every day?

Now, to be fair, I have a great dentist. He has never, ever hurt me. Not once.

The dentist, the fear of pain...that's not the problem.

The problem is the instruments. They cause so much noise, all of it INSIDE MY HEAD. You cannot escape it. The scraping. The drilling. The suctioning.

Aughhh! Shut up!

An hour-long appointment lasts a week. You know I'm right.

You've probably guessed that I have a dental appointment soon.

Yep.

I have this deeply horrible recurring dream of standing in front of the mirror, brushing my teeth. One of the front teeth looks a little funny. I put the toothbrush down and touch the tooth. It wiggles. I'm shocked. I touch it again, and it falls out.

Then, one-by-one, all my teeth begin to fall out, clattering against the the sink, click, clack, clink!

One-by-one, the teeth swirl around the sink and go down the drain.

I look up. My face, in the mirror--toothless! My lips pucker around the hollow space. I am ancient in an instant.

You had better believe I NEVER miss my dental appointments. But I dread them. I dread the noise, the everlasting noise. I dread having to hold my mouth open for an hour. I dread the latex and the clamps and the other devices of torture that get stuffed in there.

Mostly I dread the inevitable chatting of the dentist. "How are you today? What do you think of this weather? Did you see the latest episode of Scrubs?"

"MMm tnen. Ugh nne enen. Huh uh."

"Yeah, me, too."

What. The. Hell???

Also, I worry a lot. I worry about my kids, especially my daughters. I don't like to admit it, but they haven't been any better judges of the men in their lives than I have been.

Such a legacy. What a great example they had in their mother. Go on, girls, pick the guy who will make you feel worst about yourselves.

I had a wonderful father. He never made me feel I deserved less than the best.

But somehow I did feel like that. I don't know what caused the self-destructive path I took myself down.

Oh, yeah...I do. But I'm not talking.

Anyway, I don't want this to be the end of their paths, but I worry...

Alice Cooper has always had a talent for addressing abuse.

I don't have my family under the same roof anymore. I can't protect anyone. I can't save them from the not-even-close-to-perfect relationships they forge. I can't do anything but wait and worry.

What will happen to us all? Will the clowns eat us? Will the dentist get us? Will the people we should be able to trust destroy us?

So, do these thoughts keep me up at night, or do I think these thoughts because I can't sleep?

Oh, crap. That question should be good for the next few weeks of sleepless nights.

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Well, if I have somehow now disrupted your sleep, please forgive me. It's just a playlist.

I mean, it's all true...

But it's a playlist.

Go to sleep.