Sleep cannot be fitful when it is unachievable. Sleep is, in fact, impossible when the demon-possessed canine whines and cries and when left with no satisfactory response from the human, BARKS [and barks and barks, and it's 11:45pm, but she doesn't care, and she barks]. She is quarantined in her crate at the foot of the bed because of an unfortunate infestation [of fleas]. I will not share the sheets with little nasties and she's pissed. She is irate with her imprisonment, and I am so mind-numbingly tired.
shut-up. shut-up. SHUT UP!
And she barks.
Sunrise is a beautiful phenomenon - the birth of a new day, boundless opportunities, a bounty for the seizing announcing it's debut with jazz-hands and a burst of glowing glory. This said, we are not well acquainted until this week, and it's as though I've reconnected with a distant relative. You know, obligatory familial adoration and the like? Three days later [in a row], and the warmth of camaraderie has shifted a bit to that of friction. We have a shaky love/hate connection. By last night I was hopeful to give our interaction a break. Without veering forth into another pocket of circumstances all together, it became very clear that despite my preferences, the alarms would again sound in the pre-dawn darkness of another day.
Back to my silent seething anger as I lay still, praying to the Gods of Sleep that my thirty-pound, lurid spawn of evil will soon surrender to slumber herself, but she is stubborn. There is apparently no chance she will assume I don't care or can't hear her. She's a persistent little creature and she's testing my patience. I have to be up before the sun to manage a situation, and beyond myself in a bedroom teaming with the echoes of raging protests, I'm pretty sure my neighbors [and roommate] hate us both.
I love the way it feels to reach the noon mark and have mastered a day's worth of living. I love the peaceful beauty as the sorbet sky melts into blue. I hate the way my eyes burn by 3pm and afternoon errands behind the wheel become risky business and good business for the dealers of caffeine. I especially detest the passionate yearning that overtakes my heavy limbs around 10pm to crawl into bed and conclude the day. I'm too young to give up the midnight breach, but such is life. And she barks.
I'm nearing the brink of sanity. My mind is desperate for a solid recharging. She hates her cage. Solitary confinement is more than likely challenging her mental capacity. She's merely making audible the screaming cries of frustration that I contain inside, and I cannot reason with a dog. She doesn't care or understand that I want the wash of sleep to blanket me like asphyxiating lungs beg for air. I concede. She has no principles on which she has based this duel, she just wants free reign at any cost. This isn't a show-down of wit or smarts, so I bow out.
She sleeps in the living room, liberated. The barking ceases. I fall away from consciousness...until the alarms wail.
And they do, before daybreak.