June 9, 2009

• Wired

  I am wired so oddly. We are all wired so incredibly differently. I wish I was wired a bit better than the way I am.

  At 4:18 this morning, Isabelle began to cry. I don’t know if it was the tumultuous thunderstorms or just that she’d gotten up at the same time the night before, but she was awake and needed to be held. We waited a few minutes (you should always give your baby a chance to soothe him/herself to sleep first), and Simone went to her room.

  I had put my head back down — knowing, though, that the 4:30 a.m. alarm would sound at any moment — but my thoughts raced. For some reason, I started thinking about my social security card….you know, the card you get when you’re born or (if emigrated) when you become a citizen? For years (almost a decade) and through 2 moves, I’ve kept my card with a stack of old receipts, bound together by a rubber band and tucked away in a file cabinet. It had been removed from a wallet and deposited directly into that file cabinet. Recently, Simone had been doing file clean-up and I started to panic: what if she saw that stack and took it for what it appeared to be, just a stack of very old receipts that needed to be shredded and tossed? Suddenly, from a melancholy and slow awakening, my heart began to pound and my head raced even more. What a way to wake up.

  Like I said, I wish I was wired just a little differently sometimes.

  • 11:43 pm
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