Sleepless nights

You know, generally speaking, I love dogs. They're cute and supportive, non-judgmental and all that stuff. But in my neighborhood, there is a herd of insomniac, barking dogs that I would love to see meet their end.

Oh, they're perfectly quiet during the day. You never hear a peep out of them. The early evenings are relatively peaceful. It's the midnight hour when they start, and only if I'm having a great dream.

The other night I woke up suddenly out of a sound sleep. It seemed like a noise woke me up, but the room was completely silent. Kind of eerie. I laid there for a minute and tried to figure out what the sound had been. Had an electric transformer blown? Was it a rat the size of a labrador? Did someone break into the house? Does it make me a bad mom if I choose to roll over and go back to sleep?

I ended up not going back to sleep. Instead I started thinking about things I can't do anything about, bills I can't pay, friends I don't see anymore, and what a laughing stock I must be to people who ultimately don't matter.

My eyes closed about thirty minutes before the alarm went off, then I got up to take care of the people who do matter. I turned on the light inside my closet and found what had made the noise the night before.

The gift bag that held Nathan's funeral cards and death certificates had fallen off the top shelf.