Category Archives: sleep

3:00 AM

03 Friday Nov 2017

Posted by in loneliness, sleep

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It is 3:00 AM. I have been awake about forty minutes. I have YOUTube on and I just saw the opening scene of Apocalypse Now, featuring the haunting song of The Doors, The End.  I am in that kind of mood,

Now I’m watching a stripper from one of those campy revival troupes like Cin City Burlesque.  There is a great deal of fun and silliness, and  naive naughtiness to these routines. The antics displayed lighten my mood. 

Upstairs she sleeps.  And my side of the bed is pain. From my back. The sore muscles that never seem to stop aching.  Downstairs is my chair, my cup of decaf, and my imagination fueled by my loneliness.  I actually have the germ of a poem in my head about Christmas and the little things that make it what it is. Maybe tomorrow.

Up, Again. Too Early?

22 Saturday Jul 2017

Posted by in Foreign Films, Sexuality, sleep

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This morning I woke around 3:45, and decide I shall be up for awhile. I turn on YouTube and resume watching Phillippe Noiret in Coup De Torchon. I remember seeing this film when it was released. Over time, I became a huge Phillipe Noiret fan. Cinema Paradiso is my favorite Noiret film.  So yeah, I’m guilty of being a sentimental slob.The YouTube version of Coup De Torchon is chopped up and hard to follow. I lose interest, but can’t get back to bed. 

 Eventually I end up watching an infomercial for the Abdoer360, a product that promises incredible results!  This device features a seat that rotates on a chair platform and promises to give you a great abdominal workout.  Given that Infomercial World is a magic place where amazing things happen, I suppose that’s possible. 

Finally I go back to bed.  When I wake up, I have the “I didn’t sleep enough” feeling. Mrs CorC? is heading to work. I have a day where a swim isn’t mandatory and the chores can wait. Bedtime can be whenever I want it. 

I made decaf. And my eyeballs want to know what my eyelids are doing open.  A fantasy creeps into my head about what kind of lover I would be today, after my sexuality has been bottled up for 10+ years. A follow-up fantasy follows of a woman I’ve never met, but who has an aura of passion about her. Need, longing, lust escape the little prison we call today.

Fully Alive

07 Friday Jul 2017

Posted by in Exercise/ Fitness, food, Sexuality, sleep

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We have all these ideas about what that term “fully alive”means. Some associate the term with the adrenalin rush of sky diving or bungee jumping. Not being female, I can’t imagine what the experience of childbirth is like. But I suspect there is a heightened sense of what it means to be alive after the experience is over. Or maybe not.

What got me thinking about this was today. I took a car that was overheating into the shop, wondering if it would make it there, especially after it stalled out at a busy intersection. There, at the shop, serendipitously was an AA buddy who drove me home, despite that it took him out of his way. 

I had one of those monster cookies at the Starbucks inside Barnes & Noble. Triple. Chocolate. Chunk. It was good, but I would rather have had a mango.  Our preferences change.

And I thought about sex. Sex. The sweaty passion. And the noises. And the sacrifice of dignity as we come. And your lover knows your secrets. How you like to be touched. How you trust that lover, for at least that moment, and maybe, if you’re lucky, forever.

 I swim and the cold water feels good. My muscles stretch, reach,  and move me through the water. When I’m done the shower feels great and the soap smells good and I feel clean. 

The night comes. I feel tired, and hurt a little. As sleep settles in,  I’m euphoric. I want more. Of this day. Of the subtleties that enrich each moment of this blessing called life.

What A Day. 

30 Friday Jun 2017

Posted by in Bloggers, Catholic Life, cooking, Exercise/ Fitness, Family, sleep

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There is a phrase around AA that talks about packing much into the stream of life. I felt that today was one of those fully-packed days. I did not sleep all that well, waking up around Five AM, after sleeping maybe four hours.   I made coffee, texted with a friend,  and decided the 8:00 AM Daily Mass was in order. So I went.

I was hurting a little, OK a lot, and was not up for the standing and kneeling during the Mass. Today is the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, so the Mass included the Gloria and Credo, usually omitted on weekday Low Masses. Getting out around 8:45, I went shopping. I got a deal on a pork tenderloin and will fix it real soon.

After creating a breakfast that took parts of an Egg McMuffin, eggs Benedict, and creamed chipped beef, I made a poached egg sandwich on a whole wheat toasted English Muffin with chipped beef  and goat cheese. I ate it open-faced with a knife and fork. The protein made it quite satisfying,

Now I was sleepy, I slept another three hours. I woke up, spent some time on the computer, then went swimming at the Y while D, my stepmother did her exercise. Very satisfying experience. I told D that the worst part of driving was simply getting in and out of the car.

When I got home, I made a fresh tomato sandwich, using without hesitation or regret, real mayonnaise. FULL FAT. No feeble substitute. Worth every calorie.

During the day, I read blog posts, hoping my friends in the blogosphere triumph over their hardships.

After another nap, I whip up a satisfying supper from leftovers. Life feels pretty good right now. What I feel is love and connectedness to the world about me.

Further Down The Road

12 Friday May 2017

Posted by in Love and stuff, sleep

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What prompted the increased vigor toward getting rid of stuff is the spectre of my YMCA dues being drafted from my checking account sometime around Monday. If I can sell enough books to cover the dues, that would be great. I’m about 20% there already.  It’s a fun game.  

Sleep? I’m pro-sleep. And yet….

It comes hard. Sleep. I wake up at night from the discomfort of being in one position, am awake for an hour or so.  Last night, at 3:00 AM, I watched a re-broadcast of a Big 10  Women’s Softball Tournament Game.(Note: There are more than ten universities in the Big Ten,  but the Big However Many Colleges Are In The Conference This Year is a bit unwieldy.)  In my senescence, I’m watching more baseball and softball, with a greater appreciation for the games than I’ve ever had before in my life.  I finally got sleepy again, around 4:00 AM and slept til 7:00 AM.  This is all an aftermath of the back surgery.

In this room straightening and book culling, I’ve found several tubes of lubricant, intended for use in sexual activities, all unopened. Add the Magic Wand Vibrator to the lube tubes and you get the idea how bleak my life my love life is. 

Morning- 9 March 2017

09 Thursday Mar 2017

Posted by in Classical Music, food, Sexual Identity, sleep

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I wish I could say my day started at 8:30. But that is merely the most recent time I woke up. Maybe it started at 1:51 when the pain of being in one position for too long jarred me awake.  I thought it would show some sort of noble effort if I tried to go back to sleep next to MrsCorC?; that I actually wanted to be there with her, her, wearing her beige cotton granny panties and her forest green turtleneck with little gold  Brooks Brothers sheep embroidered on it.  But no.  Her nightwear is whatever remains on her body after she takes off her trousers (khaki) and bra (beige) after work. Reality speaks volumes when I awaken in the dead of night.  I do so desire  to love you, have you, goddammit, FUCK you.

I get up, go downstairs. I’m sort of hungry. I rummage in the fridge for the log of goat cheese I bought at BJ’s, find it. I ignore the little bit of blue mold growing on the leavings of  chevre  already consumed, making slices to add to the rice crackers, gluten-free, I bought at BJ’s yesterday. Crunchmaster.  A Master, forgodsakes!  Is there a Crunchmaster General? Is there some little Crunchsub, out there, eagerly yearning for the Crunchmaster to take him/her in sordid, kinky, gluten-free cracker defilement and depravity?  I digress.  I have my little snack, topped off with dates, purchased at BJ’s. (Where else?)  for some insane reason, I fix a pot of decaf, thinking I might just drink some.

Then I go to my tan leather Danish reclining chair and just sit.  I don’t read, turn on the TV, or make an attempt at The Rosary (Thursday: Luminous Mysteries). I just sit and revel in the stillness and the silence.  Finally 3:00 AM rolls around. I go back upstairs with a mug of decaffeinated coffee I won’t drink. I go to the other bedroom, take off my pyjama top and scapular, put on a CD of Schubert Lieder, sung by Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau.  I am reluctant to take off the pyjama bottoms and sleep,  completely nude!  Why? Is sexual repression contagious,  like some bizarro-world version of the clap?

Next thing I know it is 8:30. I am awake. I hear the shower running.  Mrs CorC? is getting ready for work. I get up, embrace her.  She remarks that I am strong. I infer that that comment is an acknowledgement of my sexuality. My hopes are raised  Maybe we will be lovers again.