Dancing Sugar Plums

Laying on the bed in my old room at home, I cannot help but realize that it’s still 3am and I’m still not asleep.  For some reason, home is not what it use to be and I just don’t know why.  True, I’m in the real world and living on my own now.  Home is no longer home for me.  And yet, each time I come home for Christmas, Thanksgiving or just staying over for the night, I always have problems sleeping.

I just can’t pinpoint it.  The food is still digestible.   The house doesn’t smell like old people yet.  My parents have cable.  I get free laundry.  I just don’t know.  And here I lay on the bed still wide awake.

Oh wait…

My bed is in my apartment.  The bed I’m currently sleeping on is my parents’ old bed.  The same bed that I was conceived in.  As was my sister.  Along with 24 years of fruitful marriage.

My eyes will not close tonight.  And I need some rubbing alcohol to wash myself in tomorrow.  So much for sweet dreams.


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