I’ve been eyes-wide awake in my bed for two hours and now that I’ve finally gotten up, this stupid blinking cursor is teasing me. It is 3:30 in the morning and in one way I could thank my lucky stars that I’ve finally gotten up early enough to write. On the other hand, I’m not feeling well, I’m going on a weekend vacation and the last thing I need is to be sick for a plane ride and a cruise. The funny thing is that I’m the best sleeper in the world. I can sleep anywhere. I love naps in sunny spaces. I go to bed early. Maybe it is taking me a little bit to get used to Daylight Savings. My brain is just awake. Of course, once my brain is awake in the middle of the night, I think about all the things that are stressing me out that I try to push away during daylight hours (some of which I can talk about here and now and some of which I can’t).

This is about the time in the semester when I start having my crisis of confidence. I miss my VCFA community. I so wish there was a mid-term residency. Just a short one. A weekend maybe. A time to get back together to say, "Yes, this is important. Our stories are important. You should invest this time in something that will probably never pan out financially because you are a writer and writers write. Because your story needs to be told. Because someone out there, some teen, some child somewhere needs this story." Okay. Tears now. But remember that I’ve been up since 1 am and that my throat hurts and that I’ve got gunk where gunk shouldn’t be.

I’m a little concerned too, that my grad lecture has the potential to turn into something much bigger than the 35 minutes of brilliance that it needs to be. I won’t know until I spend some concentrated time on it and the concentration of time is very hard to find.

The current political situation in our state and country and the disasters abroad certainly don’t help. How do we move through our lives in relative safety when a major part of a major country has been all but wiped out and is facing a possible nuclear melt down that will affect us all? How do we communicate to our own leaders that cutting 42 billion in vital programs and jobs while allowing 42 billion in tax cuts for the wealthiest people in our country is unacceptable?

Moreover, and on a note much closer to home, how do I communicate to my almost 12 year old that he doesn’t have to see me as his antagonist for the next six years? Oh my, God the arguments are wearing me down!

And how do I do all this when I am alone? When my husband is away for work for extended periods of time? When I live in a place that requires a lot of driving? When I don’t want to impose on my friends too much? How do I get a break?

So yes, I guess I can’t sleep because I’m stressed. It certainly seems that way. At least I get a vacation this weekend and… would you look at the clock, 4 am… time to write.