by sue h

Created on: May 07, 2008

Crashing

She sat down on the couch drawing her legs up under her, and lit a cigarette.Drawing in the warm smoke, she held it in deeply for a few seconds, then exhaled with a sigh.It felt good to sit down. She looked at the clock on the VCR. It was 4:30am. She had been up since 1:30. She drew in again and exhaled. It was relaxing.

Reaching for the ashtray, she flicked the small ash and stirred it around gently with the tip of the cigarette. Yeah, it felt good to relax for these few moments,but it wouldn't last. The restless energy was already backing up inside of her and her brain was racing, searching for something else to do.

As she mindlessly picked up the TV remote - the channel popper, her eight-year-old daughter called it - her thoughts inventoried her previous activity. She had finished folding laundry, and then did a thorough cleaning of the laundry room. She had even gotten the broom and climbed up on the washer and dryer to sweep behind both machines, followed by a vigorous scrubbing of the walls and the woodwork of the small room. This was interspersed with her running back and forth to the kitchen table,adding things to the lists she had begun on scraps of paper. She would start an art group for the withdrawn kids at the school, so they could express themselves through the medium of art; she had her list of chores she wanted her children to do before school; she had her list of courses she would take for the spring semester should she really go back to college; the list of people she wanted to call; the challenges she would conquer; the list of lists she needed to make.

Her thumb nervously clicked up and down on the channel button while flashes of lights danced across the screen. Infomercials dominated the airwaves, promising weight loss, beautiful hair, and fried turkeys or long life. She wondered if she needed any of these things and she almost went to get her credit card. She took another drag from her cigarette and put it out. It seemed as if the high energy she had was flowing freely from her fingertips, out of her body.

She toyed with the idea of crawling back into bed and snuggling up to her husband, but decided against it. All was quiet now, and she still was feeling the rush of ideas, seeing the clarity of the colors. Life always seemed more precious to her when she was in that state. She didn't want to waste a moment of it. Days were brighter, dreams were attainable, things more possible.

She got up and walked toward the kitchen, stopping

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