Nebulous Mooch

Some people fall asleep easily. I envy those people. My father often falls asleep on the sofa with the newspaper on his lap and his glasses perched on the end of his nose, or sometimes while supposedly watching television. He’ll snore loudly during one of the many crime dramas he likes to watch at night and my mother will have to wake him before going to bed. My father complains almost daily about not having slept the night before. “I didn’t sleep at all last night,” he says while rubbing his bald head. My mother says that, one night, she might leave him on the sofa to see if he’ll sleep there all night.

When my husband says he’s going to take a nap, he is usually able to fall asleep within seconds of laying down. I know he’s sleeping because his fingers start to twitch, then his arms, then his legs and finally his feet. I don’t know how he can sleep through that. Sometimes it wakes me up. I’m convinced that his twitching is one of the reasons he finds it so difficult to gain weight.

I have difficulty sleeping, especially napping. As soon as I lay down my mind starts racing. I’m a worrier by nature. Apparently, worrying is best done while trying to sleep. I refuse to take sleeping pills. I don’t want to add any pills to my list of addictions. Lost and Burt’s Bees Lip Balm are enough. Though I’ve never actually tried counting sheep, I don’t think it would work. Sheep are not particually sleep inducing creatures–all that baa-ing would keep me awake. I think that counting something a little slower, quieter, and less interesting might work better–like turtles (not sea turtles because they swim quite fast) or sloths. I think turtles are silent but I don’t know about sloths. A friend once told me that if I pictured my worries exploding in giant balls of light, that would help me sleep. I tried it and it didn’t work. It just gave me an awful headache.

My sleeping problems have lessened since getting married but they still haven’t gone away completely. I once saw a middle aged man sleeping while standing on a crowded subway train in Korea. I regard him as some kind of superhero, able to sleep anywhere, anytime! Now that’s a quality I respect.

This is my zest for life look–like someone who writes personal essays that brighten the spirit, is the funniest one at the party, has a firm grasp on the spirit of adventure, and never walks into walls.

This is my pensive look–like someone who writes fiction that profoundly affects humanity, has read all of the classics, knows her grammar, and always has exact change.

When someone points a camera at me and tells me to “look natural”, looking natural is the hardest thing to do. My husband decided that it would be a good idea to put a picture of me on top of the cover letters I send out to various publishers. I thought this was a good idea too, until I realized that it meant that I would have to pose for pictures.

The first photo shoot was done outside of our apartments and featured lots of pictures of me squinting, and even more pictures of me looking annoyed. After a quick review, I decided that the A & W Root Beer T-shirt I was wearing didn’t give me the scholarly image I was going for.

For the second photo shoot, I wore a much more intelligent looking black V-neck T-shirt. My husband decided that black and white photos would help me look even more like a serious author. I agreed, since I think I need all the help I can get to look like a serious anything. I posed behind a white picket fence with a palm tree and a building that resembled a house in the background. I thought the background looked very small town USA. I looked thoughtfully off into the distance for each photo. These were good pictures. I knew it. I could feel it. Until we put them into the computer. At full size they looked more like crazy town USA. In some of the pictures only the whites of my eyes were visible.

Our final shoot was in the park. I kept the black T-shirt because I had decided it was a good look. The more you get your picture taken the easier it gets. Before I knew it, I had become a super model working the camera. I knew the best angles. I could look passionate or pensive or posh for the camera. I’m sure the people who passed us in the park were wondering what magazine we were shooting pictures for. Luckily, they were all too nervous to ask me for my autograph during the shoot. I’m gracious to my fans. If they had asked, I just would have given it to them with no complaints. I wasn’t “looking natural” but I was looking good.
In reality, I continued to look as awkward as before, but through sheer volume we managed to get a couple of good pictures.

My hands have been giving me some troubles. I think it’s a touch of carpal tunnel syndrome so I’m taking some time off writing. I’ll put up a new post next week. I promise.