My Weary Feet in Eye of a Hurricane

I started out this morning trying to craft the perfect lie. I hadn’t slept at all, anticipating the early alarm to sound and rouse me most abruptly if sleep should have come. However, sleep evaded me the whole night. Except for some point where I think sleep took me into a dream that was most odd. Although I still had my thinking abilities, I was taken back to high school, but if I was in the current time. I was at a protest where water cannons were battling my comrades. I did not move. I stood my ground knowing full well that these water cannons would hurt. But no one moved either despite the cannons. As the water cannon blast me, it shook me and took me into my old high school. I wore a mask but was still befuddled and confused about how I got here. Wasn’t I just at a protest? How was I here? What’s my schedule? Why can’t I remember my schedule? How will I know where to go at what time? Where should I go to get another schedule?
All these questions had no answer in my “dream” as I wandered around its empty halls. Where was everyone? Was I the only one here?
Then my alarm awakened me.
I would now have to see off someone I was dog sitting for. Or at least I thought.
I had come up with the perfect lie to avoid being there when they were. I texted them, saying my car wasn’t starting and that I wouldn’t be there until later after they had left. I didn’t get a reply.
I did not want to leave the “comfort” of my bed, even though I had been tossing and turning all night trying to find a good position for sleep. I knew I wouldn’t find it, but I lied there anyway. After all, my SO was already awake and moving about to get to work. They and I had been having disagreements about things as of late, and I considered it better to remain in the one place where I could at least feel some sense of comfort, no matter how feigned it seemed. And dreaded the upcoming dog drop-in I had first thing in this morning.
I finally arose after I heard the garage door close. I bumble downstairs to the coffee maker, seeking a slight reprieve. Normally, I’d feel drowsy, waking an hour earlier than usual. However, possibly due to my anxious state, I only felt a twinge of Hypnos’ grasp on my eyelids. I would manage. I sat there, hearing the gurgling of the coffee maker, but just staring off into the empty space that was the living room. It wasn’t until the smell of the coffee had tickled my nostrils that I walked over to pour myself a cup. I sat down again, and simply listened to the sounds of the house without the other roommates awake yet. Peace. No bother. I was not inconveniencing anyone with my presence. I still did not want to say to start, but what choice did I have? My phone rang with the text notification. It read, “Well good thing we won’t be leaving til tonight then!” What? “We’ll still be seeing you at 7 tonight, right?”
I had arisen early for no reason. I grumbled to myself, replying yes to whom I would be house-sitting for this weekend. Six a.m. had been too early, and I spend the morning crafting for nothing.
Then I lost a dog job because of an ill fit, and so on and so forth, which I had to lie to my boss about, as I was teaching someone how to used FAcebook as well.
I am tired, and it’s only 2 p.m.
If there was a god, I would have been saved by now.