If not now, when?

One American woman. Twenty acres and a 1650 farmhouse in Tuscany. Random introspection and hilarity, depending on the day.

10 August 2006

Not a Fairytale

Just an average girl.

In a very very big bed.

Who cannot sleep.

Because something's not right.

Too quiet? Too hot? Too cool?
The flailing of the moth?
The stirring of the trees?
The fullness of the moon?

The feathertop mattress is lumpy in the wrong places.
Her very own perfect pillow isn't squishing quite right under her head.

Toss. Turn. Sigh.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

"Jetlag," you quietly assure. "It'll wear off."
And, desperately hopeful, she wants to believe you.

Come dawn, she will untangle herself from the sheets,
waking never feeling so hard.
Wearily brush the sleep out of her eyes.
Marvel at the transformation to Medusa.
Her prince will not be sitting at the breakfast table.
She will groggily make her own coffee.
Because this is real life.
It's not a pea, and she's not a princess.

Though too many nights like this and she WILL magically turn into a royal pain.

(*photo credit to the lovely and talented Eurobimbo!)