Another morning of waking earlier than I want to, yet the bladder has made its demand, and I have to listen. Just as yesterday and so many other mornings, the bladder calls just after seven A.M. I answer, and then I spend 45 minutes attempting to quiet the mind so that I may return to Slumberland, to no avail. Despite how tired I am, the mind is racing through scenarios, some of which are very unpleasant — even scary. Every “what if…” scenario that my pea-brained mind can draw up. And, yes, I can comfortably call my mind pea-brained when it wants to wile away its time trying to scare me, make my heart beat faster, and the hair on my arms stand at attention.
Is this Melpomene’s doing? Is she singing and whispering her tragic plays into my sleep-deprived mind? Are these scenarios the tempting songs of her sirens calling me to drown in a dark sea of unfounded fears?
If so, I’m not so sure she is the muse I wish to amuse and inspire me.
yvensong 