Darkness Will Be Falling Soon
So I just ordered some new lined velvet drapes for my bedroom, and I feel really good. At least, I feel really good knowing that when they are up I am going to feel really good.
You see, my window in the bedroom is not so much a window as almost a complete wall of glass. To be honest, it is a very large sliding door. It is about 10 feet across and 8 feet high. Up until now, this very large expanse of transparency was covered by a flimsy, unlined linen curtain.
For almost 4 years now, I have practically lived in nature. When the moon is shining, it shines right onto me through those lousy curtains. When the sun is setting in the summer, because we are on a hill, it bores mercilessly into my room. The current curtains have about as much light-blocking efficiency as tissue paper. The animals outside most likely think we are their very own drive-in movie.
If I am unfortunate enough to open my eyes before Mr. Personality strides through, I must pull the covers over my head to trick my body into thinking it is much too early for it to wake up. The sun begins to come out around 6 am or so, and don't I know it. Woe betide me if I wake up enough to have to use the restroom, because chances are, it will be so bright in the room that I don't stand a chance of going back to sleep. My brain tells my body, "Look Gina, the sun is out, the centuries of human agricultural history are still alive and at work in your DNA. You must go out and tend the fields!" To which my body politely tries to explain to my brain that I have no damn fields to tend, and to please shove off. But, by that time it is already way too late.
Don't even talk to me about a sleep mask. I have tried them and they bother me greatly. Besides, when I wear it I feel overly dramatic, like I am a faded once-famous actress who needs it for her hangovers or something equally silly.
If you were to take the view that my old curtains are extremely energy-wasting, you would be absolutely correct. They keep in zippo heat during the winter, and as I mentioned, let the full force of the setting summer sun in to slowly warm up my bedroom to a temperature in which a souffle would rise quite nicely.
I look forward to the days when I can open my eyes at 530am and see complete darkness, or even to have no idea if the moon is shining. Because even though falling asleep with moonbeams shining brightly upon you is the stuff of poetry, at this point I am willing to find my poetry elsewhere, thank you.
You see, my window in the bedroom is not so much a window as almost a complete wall of glass. To be honest, it is a very large sliding door. It is about 10 feet across and 8 feet high. Up until now, this very large expanse of transparency was covered by a flimsy, unlined linen curtain.
For almost 4 years now, I have practically lived in nature. When the moon is shining, it shines right onto me through those lousy curtains. When the sun is setting in the summer, because we are on a hill, it bores mercilessly into my room. The current curtains have about as much light-blocking efficiency as tissue paper. The animals outside most likely think we are their very own drive-in movie.
If I am unfortunate enough to open my eyes before Mr. Personality strides through, I must pull the covers over my head to trick my body into thinking it is much too early for it to wake up. The sun begins to come out around 6 am or so, and don't I know it. Woe betide me if I wake up enough to have to use the restroom, because chances are, it will be so bright in the room that I don't stand a chance of going back to sleep. My brain tells my body, "Look Gina, the sun is out, the centuries of human agricultural history are still alive and at work in your DNA. You must go out and tend the fields!" To which my body politely tries to explain to my brain that I have no damn fields to tend, and to please shove off. But, by that time it is already way too late.
Don't even talk to me about a sleep mask. I have tried them and they bother me greatly. Besides, when I wear it I feel overly dramatic, like I am a faded once-famous actress who needs it for her hangovers or something equally silly.
If you were to take the view that my old curtains are extremely energy-wasting, you would be absolutely correct. They keep in zippo heat during the winter, and as I mentioned, let the full force of the setting summer sun in to slowly warm up my bedroom to a temperature in which a souffle would rise quite nicely.
I look forward to the days when I can open my eyes at 530am and see complete darkness, or even to have no idea if the moon is shining. Because even though falling asleep with moonbeams shining brightly upon you is the stuff of poetry, at this point I am willing to find my poetry elsewhere, thank you.
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