Sleeping like a Zombie

These past few nights (four nights to be exact) I’ve been having difficulty sleeping. Gone were the restful nights of peace and eagerness to sleep. In my mind there was only one thing to blame for such misery, my workloads. But of course in most circumstances it wasn’t work the biggest culprit here. I have no one and nothing to blame for but myself. I created all the qualms of my life because I imprinted high standards. Now I am drowning.


So at 5 A.M. I decided to take a walk with my iPod and the new earphones I bought from Target. I originally planned of buying Bose’s IE2 headphones with mic, which was perfect for the iPhone. The price however was ridiculously high that I ended up getting a $15 headphones made by a cheap brand. It sounded good and turned out to be a keeper.

The neighborhood was asleep and here I was soaking at the opposite of the entire population. It was a bit cold today and I stupidly left my jacket at home. Right around the block I dragged myself back home, snatched my car keys and pocketbook, and took a drive instead.

It was stuffy inside the SUV. There were marks of spilled coffee around the cup holder and visible white dusts decorated the dashboard. I made a mental note to get a car wash and call the dealer for a service appointment when the maintenance light blinked. Then it stayed on. I rolled the windows down and cold breeze slapped my face and blew my hair away. I had to spit few strands of hair after I rolled the windows back up while waiting for the green light at a neighboring intersection. No one was on the road and the traffic light above swayed along the direction of the wind. I gathered my tangled hair up and tied it with a chocolate-brown rubber band dangling around my wrist, puffed my bangs sticking on my forehead.

Crossing along the quiet residential roads next town was something I haven’t done for a while now. Weekends were spent lately at home working on anything I could think of besides left over projects --from my job. Few minutes went by and giant houses with two and three car garages came in to view.

Wow – the only word came out of my mouth. How can these people afford to pay such high maintenance and a land screaming for higher tax payments? Here I was struggling for monthly utility bills, high mortgage payments, car related bills, credit bills, and more of those crappy bills, and then there they were in a spitting image of wealthy lifestyle. What have I done wrong? It was hard for me to digest the luxury presented before my eyes. There were also new constructions nearby, some were in early stages and few were in their final phases before completion. Luxury cars would soon be parked next to them.

Jealousy may not be the exact word to describe such feeling I went through at that moment. No, it can’t be that word – I prefer pity. Self-pity to be exact! People living in those houses must have nothing much to worry in life. They have everything, or at least almost everything they owned.

The road curved and the scenery flipped a bit differently. There were more trees and the lanes became wider. Aha! More houses – bigger than the previous town I drove by. I sighed and stretched my neck gawking at the height of some of the West Orange mansions. They were almost the same height of the trees. I parked the car next to the entrance of a public park and ogled the surrounding area. I rolled the windows down to smell the rich air from the wealth of the town. Who knows maybe their lifestyle would rub on me and turned me in to…

I suddenly overheard voices. Across the street, I saw a woman wearing pink sweatshirt and sweatpants, a somewhat two or three year old little girl clutched to her side. They were walking fast toward a black car parked in front of the house. A man followed behind wearing a black suit that covered a white shirt inside and a black tie hanging in front, black pants and black business shoes. They were talking – no – they were yelling at each other. I contemplated to roll my windows back up and in the end gave in to my shameless curiosity. I kept the windows wide open.

The man (I assumed to be the husband) grabbed the woman’s arm, but she quickly pushed him away while the kid started to cry. “Let me go, let me go,” she said. The man kept his distance. I wondered if he realized how many of the word “please” came out of his mouth. “Stop following us,” was the last phrase I heard from the woman (the wife, maybe?) before the car screeched out of the drive way leaving the man in a black suite, alone. He balled his fingers to a fist, pounded them against his forehead, merely stood there for a good four minutes, maybe five. Then his eyes switched to my direction. Shh-i-i--!

I quickly turned on the engine and left. I stopped by at the Starbucks to calm down, bought a Grande white chocolate mocha and headed home.

At that very moment, I knew my life wasn’t that bad after all.



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