My Angry Hip

Some nights I crawl into bed early and pray for dreams in which I am also sleeping. There is no greater joy than to dream of sleep, don’t you think?

Too often these are the same nights when my angry hip is shouting profanities and getting into fights and the ruckus keeps me from drifting into the slumber I so desperately crave.

I really just want to sleep, damn it.

I swear to you my hip is angriest when I need sleep the most. She shouts loudest on nights when I have already biked to two jobs and napped all twisted on an unfamiliar couch. She shouts because I have worn the magic out of my magic shoes and now they are just shoes and therefore no longer protect my bum knee from aching. The aching knee pisses off my angry hip and they start fighting while I’m still trying to smile at all the people who want all the lattes all the time.

That’s what happened to me last week.

Tonight my hip is making a scene all over again and all I want to do is dream about sleep.


I write.

And maybe my angry hip is my great motivator. Maybe she will help me write a blogpost for a deadline I’ve sort of already missed. Maybe the yelping and profanities will keep me alert enough to pound out 1500 delicious words to hand over to my writing partner in a couple weeks.

Maybe …

For now, it seems, my angry hip just keeps me awake to blog about being awake. So that’s kind of lame.

On nights like this … screaming helps.


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