Something woke me up.
In the dark, in the bed, I turned over. But at that moment, the same thing that woke me up must have startled Izzy, because she woofed once and that started barking loudly as she ran out into the living room, barking madly thru the screen door at something in the backyard.
The fair and industrious Trudy got out of bed and settled her down, sliding the glass patio door shut so that Izzy’s alarm might not wake the entire neighborhood as it had us.
But that was two hours ago. Guinness has settled down in the living room. Izzy is quiet now, curled up somewhere at the foot of the bed. Trudy sleeps motionless beside me. And I am here, wide awake, unable to turn my brain back into off.
They’re going to build another highway, another bridge over the river towering over the existing one. And the legislature is going to pass a law stripping the city from its ability to regulate (to forbid) plastic grocery bags. And another law allowing concealed weapons on college campuses.
The east side of the city is gentrifying at a rate that will complete the refashioning of the city, effectively banishing those without significant means to somewhere else, anywhere but inside the city limits where real estate is now only affordable to the upper crust.
The trail they were going to bring to this neighborhood will bypass us after all, sticking to the other side of the freeway in response to the howls of protest from a vocal handful of loons worried about dangerous others walking and riding nearby.
I have a code review to do, and I didn’t do it over the weekend. And we have deadlines looming in July that are unlike any deadlines I’ve ever faced before.
My family is gathering in Michigan in the middle of July on precisely that weekend when my company is gathering in Maryland. So I’ll miss the kids as another year passes and they head into middle school.
Ben has talked about changing jobs, which might be a good thing. But he has also talked about moving far away.
The Bermuda grass needs to be pulled in the garden bed in the back. And the Hackberries coming up along the fence. There are fire ants in the pepper plants. The wild blackberries are taking over the beds on the south side of the house. Will our first apple on the apple tree make it? And the two persimmons? There is poison ivy in the new pocket park at the end of the block.
Do I have my running stuff packed for tomorrow? Where is my laptop to take to work? I didn’t pack my lunch. Will the Monterey Oak heal its wound. Will the neighbor’s Walnut tree drop that branch on our power line? Why isn’t the oven broiler working? Will Martin finally get the permit allowing him to replace the patio door at the condo? Should we do the flooring ourselves? Do we need a new circuit if we put new lighting in the ceiling?
In the dark, in the bed, I sit up and fumble for my glasses and walk into the study and begin typing the the keyboard. Because clearly, my brain is not going to turn off.