Four AM

My countdown has begun.
There is, I think, a lonely sadness in choosing to walk away from something, someone, or someplace that you’ve become accustomed to. Like toxic relationships, or smoking, or Friday night parties, or fried chicken, or Pentecostal churches, or jobs, even if you don’t think it’s good for you, or meant for you, if you’ve relied on it for any amount of time for money, a high, a vice of any kind, then walking away can be sad. Because of a class for work that I was already scheduled to attend, the last few weeks of my employment has required a change in my schedule from the graveyard shift to days. So, not only are my sleeping patterns chaotic right now, but I am waking up way before daylight with many things occupying my thoughts. At about 4a.m. I stir, and maybe go to the bathroom. Then, I lay wide-eyed and awake, next to my beloved, listening to his deep and musical slumber, contemplating storylines, how many classes I can take in the fall and still make good grades, what to cook for dinner, how to tell my supervisor that I quit without being tricked into talking too much about what I didn’t like about the job, about the internship, getting into graduate school, and making a commitment not to eat to much today. Finally, I get up, make a cup of coffee, and begin to write or read. Whether I get up at three, four or five in the morning, or stay up until two, three or four in the morning, this is always a good time for reading or writing; the hour of God, while everything else is still at peace/rest. Anyway, my day has begun, and writing has, as always, calmed my fears.