Where I go when I can't sleep

It's rainy and I'm tired and I was up too late last night indulging my brain on fast-forward in whirring through my to-do lists and projects and what I forgot to order from the magical, fabulous grocery delivery. I meant to go to bed. In fact, I meant to be asleep while my thoughts were reminding me of how productive I suppose I am not when I am not still from the hours of 7 a.m. to 1 a.m.

When I was little and I couldn't sleep, I panicked. My mom would come in and rub my back and sing to me. Then later my dad would come in and talk me through the first few scenes of The Sound of Music or Grease or whatever would lull me into some harmonized slumber. Even as an adult, I would sometimes freak out if I had trouble falling asleep and have to read or blog or watch E! until I could relax enough to go back to bed.

Last night, I wasn't upset or even worried I was awake. I was just awake. Instead of making my way through Rizzo-Sandy dialogue or mentally singing my way through the song where all the kids have on clothes made out of the curtains, I let my racing thoughts speed on ahead without me.

I let my mind go back to someplace serene. Someplace I did not want to leave. Someplace lovely that felt exactly what I'd like my room to feel like, especially on those over-thinking, not sleeping nights.

OK, so it was a hotel. My special place was a hotel. Thank God life has changed a bit and it wasn't some Comfort Inn on a frontage road in Missouri where the carpeting is orange and the nasty ass coverlet is more orange and the little bottles of shampoo are worse than the cheap stuff you dig up from the basket under the bathroom sink at your mom's house. Thank. God.

Oh no, darlings. My mind was on the Oceana. Have you been there? If you have, you know. If not, I leave you with the cell phone photos I couldn't help but take of the room I didn't want to leave. I don't want to go back to the Oceana in moments of sleeplessness in less-feathery, less-serene bed in my cold city, but that's what I will do until someone wants to cozy up there with me sometime. Please, please, for the love of Something About Maria, let that be sometime soon.

Here's to better sleep. And possibly, a drink and a dip and another few dreamy nights. This time, not alone.