Insomnia

It's one of those nights. In the light of the street lamp, the leaves of the trees shine with water and heave sickly in the howling wind. Something about the design of our eaves in particular make each gust sound like the ghost train is pulling into the station. The restless moaning keeps conjuring the same fear to my mind: flooding. Is it an irrational fear? Probably. But I just picture the radar images of Fay, parked over the state and dumping endless bucketfuls of water on us. Christian tried to reassure me that the little lake behind our house makes it less likely that we will flood, since the excess water has somewhere other than the foundation of our house to flow into. When you're lying awake at 4:30 at the morning, those reassurances fade.

My night started out well enough. I fell right to sleep, but was awoken a few minutes later by Christian's elbow, which was repeatedly knocking me in the head. Yeah, he tends to fidget in his sleep. I eventually fell back to sleep, but it took me a while. And now I'm up, 5 hours later. At least I can pass some time by writing aimless blog posts...