National Poetry Month Day 8: Personification Inspired by Amy LV…
This seems to keep happening to me. I am skipping days of writing! Although I set a goal last week to make a set time for writing, summer is just too crazy for that! I am writing when I can. (When I say “when I can” I honestly mean when I make time for it.) I am learning a lot about myself as a writer when I am making or challenging myself to write so often! My students are definitely going to benefit from this experience with me being more understanding on how they may feel about writing on a daily basis.
So, to get myself caught up, once again, I am writing to two prompts today! However, this time, I will write two posts instead of one lengthy one.
Day 12: June 13
I watch as my Jurassic Park alarm clock switches from 11:59 to 12:00. A new day. Another night without sleep. Why can I not sleep? I toss and turn, I pace my room, read a book, do jumping jacks, all to get myself tired enough to sleep. Even as I feel the exhaustion and welcome sleep, even as I know this is the time that I will finally sleep, as soon as I lay my head on my pillow, my mind awakens.
When the lights go out, my mind becomes alive. I begin to run through my entire day. Each conversation I had. Each person I crossed paths with. Each smile, or frown. I start to get onto myself for all I did wrong. For all I said wrong. I worry how others will think of me. If I have left a bad impression. If I have hurt someone’s feelings.
After running through the play-by-play of my day, I begin to fantasize about the future, which leads me to start becoming paranoid and I start to worry. I worry about my family. I worry about my loved ones’ safety. What could happen. I start dreaming of these terrible things that will happen to them. Well, not dreaming really, because I am not asleep. I am daydreaming I suppose.
The only way to stop this madness, is to get up. I drag myself out of bed.
I wander out of my room. Down the hall.
I find myself headed to the kitchen.
There is already a dim light coming from the kitchen, and I smile to myself.
This is our thing. My dad has the same worries. The same brain. The same mind. Without ever speaking about it, we both know why we end up in the kitchen together each night. He goes to the fridge, slides open the freezer door, and grabs the ice cream. He has already set to two bowls with two spoons. He knew. He begins to scoop out one scoop for each of us and then returns the tub to the freezer. He grabs the bowls and sits down next to me. We eat in silence. The spoons quietly clatter against the bowl as we finish off our midnight snack.
He grabs the bowls, rinses them out, and puts them into the dishwasher.
He grabs me into a great big hug and whispers into my hair, “Rest your mind.” Then he kisses my cheek and we each go back to our bedrooms. When I lay my head on my pillow, I fall instantly to sleep.
I know that the top of the prompt said “You are what you eat,” but I as soon as I saw that picture, I knew I had to write about a child and a father getting up in the middle of the night to have a snack. I hope you enjoyed!
Thanks for reading and happy writing to you!