Saturday, June 12, 2010

Cat's in the cradle

I woke up at 3:40 a.m. last night and realized immediately it would be one of those nights. Those nights where no amount of counting sheep will put you back to sleep, a night in which even if you do doze off, your dreams are bad and make you wish to stay awake. It was a night where every little noise was magnified, and you're sure someone is hovering in the corner of your room, a night in which your spouse is peacefully breathing, unknowingly rubbing it in that you can't shut your eyes. It was a night in which your mind thinks of every problem and no solution, every danger but no escape route. It was a night in which you realize why sleep aids are always advertising on television - and a night in which you regretted you didn't have any. In short, it was a bad night, and somewhere around 4 (or was it 5? or was it 5:30?), this poem popped into my head.

Cat’s in the cradle

Not now
Tomorrow isn’t good for me
The day after tomorrow isn’t good for me
Maybe next week
Stop asking me
I’ll let you know
Don’t worry about it
Quit worrying
Use your brain
Use your common sense
You don’t have any common sense
Be quiet
Shut up
Stop talking
I don’t want to hear it
Get out of my face
Go to your room
Leave me alone
Don’t bother me
Stay in there and don’t come out
I don’t want to see your face
Go away
Stop crying
Act your age
I wish you’d never been born
I’m sick of you
I’m tired of looking at you
I don’t want to hear another word out of you
I hate you
You make me sick
Get the door
Straighten up
Sit down
Cheer up
Stop moping
Be happy
What’s wrong with you?
Smile and say hello

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