December 8, 2005

Conversation.

One of the most challenging things I find about your typical work week is the need to fall asleep when I’m not really that tired. I’m proud to proclaim that I am a “night owl”. I burn the midnight oil. I could work all night on an any given adventure, while others are in bed dreaming of their next adventure. On my ideal schedule, I’m awake until 3:30 a.m. or so and then sleep ’til noon. It just the way I’m wired.

Tomorrow is a vacation day, so normally I would indulge myself in my natural sleeping habits, but I need to head up to my grandparents’ house early in the morning to meet the movers to move my grandparents’ piano down to our house.

I just tried to force myself to sleep with no such luck. Usually I can lie in bed and sort of imagine myself someplace else; another city, another time, another outfit, and then I’ll eventually fall asleep with my recent imagination segueing into my dreams.

Tonight I had the urge to shake Earl awake and discuss a myriad of topics with him. I didn’t do that of course, as he was snoring loud enough to make the cattle in the barns two towns over restless. (“Elsie, what the hell is that noise? Is your milker clogged up again?” “No, it’s Earl snoring again.”) Normally Earl’s sounds of slumber are like music to my ears. Well, at least the noise masks the constant ringing in my ears that I have from too many ears wearing headphones as a DJ.

It’s not easy to carry on a conversation with someone that snores.

“We should talk about the Christmas shopping we have left.”

“honk honk gurgle gurgle honk honk [sound of sucking up pillow off the bed].”

I love him with all my heart but what kind of conversation is that?

So I’ll try to tire myself by surfing the internet and working on my little road geek projects and what not. Thank the Universe everything in the computer room is bolted down.

Tickle The Ivories.

There is something so invigorating of knowing a three-day weekend lies ahead. Today is my “Friday” as I have taken tomorrow as a vacation day. Tomorrow I’m having my grandparents’ piano moved into its new home in our front room.

My excitement is a little bittersweet, though. I’m really pumped about having a piano in the house again since it’s been over two years since Earl and I have had a piano. I’m anxious to start plunking out tunes. I might even take piano lessons again, because after all, I don’t have enough going on in my life.

But I’m a little sad because it’s my grandparents’ piano. When I hear or see this piano, I’ll remember the happy times I had as a kid listening to my grandmother play or trying to figure out tunes on my own. This piano predates the house its currently in, which was built in the mid 1950s. It hasn’t really moved since being put in its spot nearly 50 years ago. It’s a family heirloom that I’m going to treasure forever.

I’m sure that after the movers leave and I play the piano tomorrow I’ll have tears in my eyes. But that’s o.k. There’ll be a song in my heart.