This week’s blog was supposed to continue with everything autism, but with all the craziness and stress going on everywhere in the world right now regardless of which country you live in, it seems everyone needs something much lighter. So I wanted to talk about the morning after.
No, I’m not talking about the mornings you need to grab your clothes and sneak out, asking yourself, What was I thinking? I’m talking about the morning after I finish writing a book, having met the crazy deadline that has me writing and working late hours while promotions and ads and social media suck up every free moment, leaving me with not enough sleep. Still, because I’m a morning person, I’m not kidding when I say my favorite part of the day is before the sun comes up. This time of year, because the temperature has dropped, I head outside in those heavy, super-comfortable and warm fleece pajamas and a housecoat, with a wool hat and gloves and boots. That’s where I want to be first thing in the morning with my coffee.
There’s one thing I will never live without, and that’s my first morning coffee and a sunrise. They just go together, with the peace and quiet of the morning and no one around. Yes, even on a few hours’ sleep, I’m not giving up that precious crack of dawn. Morning is my time, and my kids know well how much I love this part of the day.
But what happens when you don’t get enough sleep?
One particular morning, I was dressed in really warm pajama gear, with boots, sitting on my back deck, which overlooks the forest. My cat often follows me out, because apparently he is a morning cat. I was sitting there, enjoying my coffee and the quiet. It was still dark, but the sun would start edging up anytime. Then I heard the cat take off, his claws digging into the wooden deck with the kind of scrape I’d never heard him make. He had never taken off that fast before!
I glanced over, not that I could see him in the darkness, because he’s black and had likely fled around the corner of the house by then. I went back to my coffee—which, by the way, was really good. Then I thought I saw something, a movement out of my peripheral, coming towards me. But it was still dark, and remember, I was functioning on fumes, having gotten only a few hours’ sleep.
It was coming closer still, and I realized it was big and black. A badger? I was still sitting there on my deck, which isn’t very big, only one step off to a big grassy area, with no railing on that open side. What the hell is a badger, anyway? I asked myself. I don’t think I know what they look like. Do they even exist in my part of the world?
The thing was coming closer, like a shadow in the dark. The sun needed another five or ten minutes to start creeping up and providing that hint of light, which is really amazing with coffee. Then it was so close, maybe ten feet from where I was sitting, loping, and it was right there. It was then that my brain decided to connect and wake up. I sucked in a breath, the panic hit me, and an alarm went off in my head. Oh, shit—a bear!
A few choice words slipped out as I dropped my coffee, leaped out of that chair, and jumped off the deck, running the other way around the corner of the house—all the things you’re not supposed to do. But there was my cat by the sliding glass door, and we both went in.
“Do you think you could’ve given me a heads up?” I said.
Of course, he didn’t answer.
After my heart went back to normal, I had a good laugh, and as I woke up my kids, I told myself I needed to start getting some more sleep.
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When dispatcher Charlotte Roy passes along a call to bad-boy deputy Marcus O’Connell, they learn a six-year-old child is in danger. Can they save the girl from a desperate situation?
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