Do you know, it seems that I have forgotten how to do nothing. Not just forgotten, I'm almost in fear of doing nothing. Or of doing very little. Kicking back and focusing on something simple, relaxing, or even simply sitting and thinking, or perhaps not even thinking at all. I can't remember how to do any of those things anymore.
Whenever I dream of getting away from it all, it's always to the sea. It's the nothingness, the vast, open space, the weather. Lots of weather. And the stormier the better. Watching the waves crash on to the beach and then retreat backwards almost as if bowing their apologies to the sand for treating it so harshly.
Because they don't sleep. This sentence could be prefixed in many different ways. My boys. The sleep-averse tag team. One who can't sleep unless cuddled up next to his mama and the other wide-eyed and ready to start the day at barely a minute past 5.30. And neither feel inclined to nap in the day either. So. I don't really get a great deal of sleep because they don't sleep. I drink too much coffee because they don't sleep. I seem to have permanent bags under my eyes that no amount of Touche Eclat can disguise, because they don't sleep. The days (and nights) can sometimes seem a little long because they don't sleep. And so on, and so on.