HOLD ON TIGHT

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. ~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot Saturday, December 13, 2008 doctors and nurses the female side of my family has a history of insomnia. my mother and grandmother steal sleeping pills from one another. after my ice skating accident and bronchitis, i stopped running outside (yes, snow and sleet and all), my body got softer, and then i stopped sleeping. in the past week, i realised the kind of desperation not being able to sleep. i saw a nurse yesterday, (you don't have to have the same state of being as the rest of them, she said, and i felt calmed) and gymmed myself to death. at 11:30, i popped some benedryl pills, and my room mate read me a chapter from betty neal's Saturday Child (british romance story involving doctors and nurses, sort of like a british, 1960s version of grey's anatomy). and for the first time since tuesday, i slept for 8 hours. it was lovely. posted by dawn # 7:16 AM Comments: i hate not being able to sleep. # posted by Anonymous : 12:39 PM Post a Comment << Home		[publishing] Publishers Weekly . Dystel & Goderich . New York Center for Independent Publishing . Association of American University Presses . Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators [people] clarisse . nurul . aunty zarina (ummi's bakery) . jeremy . pak . cyril . softblow . karen & kenny (booksactually) . eric . joel . [other loves] digitaljournalist . ballet dictionary . poetshouse . urbanwordnyc [me] dawn, singapore, new york city, ithaca. [yesterday] things to do when you have lost your voice sick to the core wedding glassware am lit break my hea-a-a-a-a-ar-t, break my heart Comus, 1787 on the verge of a trembling walking with grace little moment fannie and freddie [archives] January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT

And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot

Saturday, December 13, 2008

doctors and nurses

the female side of my family has a history of insomnia. my mother and grandmother steal sleeping pills from one another. after my ice skating accident and bronchitis, i stopped running outside (yes, snow and sleet and all), my body got softer, and then i stopped sleeping. in the past week, i realised the kind of desperation not being able to sleep. i saw a nurse yesterday, (you don't have to have the same state of being as the rest of them, she said, and i felt calmed) and gymmed myself to death. at 11:30, i popped some benedryl pills, and my room mate read me a chapter from betty neal's Saturday Child (british romance story involving doctors and nurses, sort of like a british, 1960s version of grey's anatomy). and for the first time since tuesday, i slept for 8 hours. it was lovely.

posted by dawn # 7:16 AM

Comments:

i hate not being able to sleep.

# posted by

Anonymous : 12:39 PM