Theresa Lewis

“Sweet dreams, sweet dreams?” Shove it, I say. I probably would have “sweet dreams”, if I could get this freaking hair off my lips.

I have worked so hard to focus only on positive thoughts as I prepare to slip blissfully into slumber-land. I was almost there the other night, when a rogue hair came loose and fell across my lips. With every exhale, that miserable hair wafted and tickled the end of my nose. I tried not to move as I made several attempts to gently blow the hair away. It wouldn’t move. I had no choice but to disturb my comfortable position because many attempts to blow the hair away had failed. I tried pursing my lips in every different direction and blowing hard, all to no avail. I was getting very agitated and that was not conducive to the peaceful sleep I had planned.

I suppose here would be a good time to describe my somewhat unusual sleeping habits. A couple of years ago, I gave away my bed. I have been sleeping in a recliner for the past four years. I also started taking cannabis oil to keep me asleep once I get there. Usually, I take the oil and don’t get up if at all humanly possible. Usually, I said, but if I do have to get up, I have to hang onto the furniture so I don’t lose my balance and do myself in. That oil can make a person awfully dizzy.

After fighting with that infernal antagonizing hair, I was so agitated and in no longer in a mood to sleep. I got up and went to look in the mirror to find that miserable hair. I found it! Apparently, in my attempts to blow it away, I had snuffled it up my nose and that’s why I couldn’t blow it away… that and the fact that the hair was actually growing!

Since at that point, I was totally awake, I decided to stay up for awhile and do some writing. I only wrote a couple of paragraphs when I felt the need to sleep. Oh well, I could finish my story another day.

Two days later I decided to finish writing my story. I called up my unfinished story and tried to re-read what I had written (while under the influence). Oh my goodness, what was this nonsense? Almost every word was misspelled and

-2-

there was no continuity of thought, nor was there any punctuation. I figured that either I had lost my touch for writing, or I had totally lost my mind. Neither thought appealed to me.

The story I was attempting to write was a funny incident that happened a few days earlier. For some reason, in my altered state of being, I had thought the incident was so funny that I had wanted to share it with the world. In retrospect, when sober, I realized that the incident wasn’t all that laughably funny in the first place.

Lessons learned: don’t get up after taking cannabis oil, don’t try to walk through a doorway because the door frame moves as you try to walk through the opening and you end up banging off the frame. And certainly don’t try to write a story when I don’t have my wits about me.

THE END