lately I'd been having problems getting a good night of sleep. it had never happened to me before, so I was beginning to worry that perhaps Jesus decided to present me with a bout of life-long insomnia as a cruel joke. I could get to sleep ok, maybe after an hour or so of reading, but throughout the night I kept waking up or tossing/turning enough that I would know what I was doing. then, on Tuesday night, I decided to add a blanket to my layers of bedding since it's getting cool again and it was like manna from heaven. I hadn't slept so well in such a long time. so apparently it was just my body not being warm enough waking me up all those hellish nights. I feel like I owe my bod a big apology: sorry for not realizing you were chilly and needed more covers! now give me back my clarity and we can all be friends again.

I've always needed something covering me when I sleep at night. I don't understand how some people can just lay it out there, no sheet, no nothing, even when it's hot hot hot in the summer. I just feel like I'm too exposed or something unless I have at least a sheet and more often than not a comforter, a quilt, and a blanket on top of me. I think it stems from when I was smaller and I had a great fear of robbers/murderers breaking in to my parents' home at night. I used to reason that my blankie and my covers would obviously keep me safe, I guess because if the robber/murderer tried to take them off me, I'd wake up and be able to get away.

I was also deathly afraid of tornados when I was little, which is laughable now, considering I lived in Pennsylvania, in a hilly valley surrounded by large hills, which tend not to foster any sort of high, destructive winds. I think I just watched too many programs on tornados at one time. or maybe it was from watching "The Wizard of Oz" too much. weird. haha. I can't believe I was afraid of tornados. my parents probably thought I was nutso.

good old childhood.