Now my lids are heavy. My thoughts were taking me places I didn’t want to go. So I took a break and spent some time browsing networking sites (Facebook and myspace) which just really tap me for my time spent here; where I could be reflecting and making an attempt to share profound thoughts and discoverings. And creating new words.
During Ali’s week on at work, he brings me the IHT every morning after his shift ends. I read it on my commute to and from work. I know what’s going on in the world. I become educated about newsworthy politics and events. But no one at work is interested in discussing these things. So, most likely I have to wait until I return home when we sit on the couch, legs sprawled across each other while sipping fresh coffee and munching on newly baked snack of dream bars, discussing the world’s events of the day or week. But by the end of the week, I find I need a break from that reality.
It weighs heavy on me and has created nightmares. This week I had two; I witnessed two wars of the past: the Vietnam War (which they call the American War), and the Lebanese War (this could have been a civil war or the recent attacks from Israel last summer.) It’s not surprising really when images and descriptive words are spread daily across the newspapers. Which is one reason why I need to return to my fiction book for my daily commuters read. Except this time I am reading The Bookseller of Kabul, which, as we all know, is non-fiction. Not much escape there as I read about the author and her experiences with a family living in Kabul, Afghanistan.
Then as if news isn’t enough reality, I watch a documentary on women in Afghanistan after the ‘fall’ of the Taliban, Dispatches: Afghanistan Unvieled, on Channel 4. Oh and how heavy it weighs on my heart and soul and emotions, etc. But this really would be a discussion or even a rant which I don’t have the energy for at nearly 2am. But, as if that’s not enough, I then watch a crime show involving a rape case. What’s wrong with me?
So now, I take a break from my position in reality. I feel calm and relaxed, tucked in my bed, while Ali works another night. We both only have six more work weeks left in our current jobs, although his are spread out over the course of the summer. Oh summer! Where we get to mold our reality into one of joy and reunion with family and friends and another belated wedding celebration. We just can’t get enough.
And this is where I say good night because my xanax has coaxed me into the sweetness of sleep I am now ready to enter, anxiety free and ready for happy dreaming.
Postscript: this post has been edited with a clear mind over morning coffee the following morning, due to the extreme tiredness of the author the night before.