Wide Awake

I'm Wide Awake when I shouldn't be. Double shifts make me exhausted. So exhausted that I fell asleep listening to messages on my phone. Sleeping for six hours straight feels amazing. Waking up at 12:35 AM means I'm now Wide Awake.
Listening Natasha Bedingfield's voice, here I sit, wondering where I'm going with this. So I sing along. "Just like the moon, I'll step aside, and let your sun shine while I follow behind... If I could be your angel, protect you from the pain, I'll keep you safe from danger. You'll never hurt again!"* Hiphop makes me happy. Miss Bedingfield's music makes me happy. It reminds me that Christians can do hiphop well, without making it too "touchy-feely" and distancing the nonchristians by being overly christian. Instead its beautiful. It draws you in.
The mind wanders. I wonder where I was originally going with this. A new song comes on my playlist, and David Archuleta's voice comes on through my snow white earbuddies. "Do you catch your breath when I look at you? Are you holding back like the way I do?"** I love this song for some unknown reason. It has nothing to do with the fact that he was in American Idol, though, for I have no TV. I am proud to not have TV. Except during baseball season. Then I weep.
Missing my friends like crazy is not fun. And it doesn't help that I'm tired. But going to church is refreshing, like a banquet of meat after weeks of crackers and ketchup. Sleeping on my sister's couch feels oddly comforting. Holding my nephew makes me extremely happy.
But for now, I am Wide Awake. My chat blinks, and a friend asks why I'm up so late. I am hyper as I explain why. Neverending has three e's in it. Putting e's in random words is, apparently, against the rules and marked as cheating. Being "posted" is hilarious at 2:00 AM.
"Break week" is a contradiction. Monopoly calls on Tuesday evening, as does work and Cristina's house on Wednesday. Then Stacy's house and the Phantom of the Opera looms on Thursday evening's horizon. Friday brings Spokane shopping and then dinner and games at the Burnett's house. Saturday I see Smokey Mountain beckoning for another late shift. But Sunday comes again(and so do my friends!) and, as I do every seventh day, I will eat meat.

And I'll walk with grace my feet and faith my eyes. ***


* Angel by Natasha Bedingfield
** Crush by David Archuleta
*** Faith My Eyes by Caedmon's Call