Fireworks

Every night at this time I can hear the fireworks from Disneyland.

I like to go to bed early now. I don't have meetings at 10 anymore and I don't have class at night or newspapers to publish. There is nothing that cannot get done during the day.

I fail if I am not in bed by 10.

And since I don't keep track of time very well (there are reasons why I don't go to class), it's easy for me to fail (Note: blaming failure on something specific makes failure more easier to overcome. Summer Lesson No. 1 and Why I Don't Need A Shrink).

But God protects me from failure. I know it is 9:30 because the Disneyland fireworks rumble my home. No closer then 10 miles, the Happiest Place on Earth celebrates its 50th birthday daily with a magnificent firework show.

I have seen the show and it is magnificent. Julie Andrews narrates it and when I recognize the rumbles I hear her, in my head, weaving the story of Disneyland.

If only it was that pleasant.

I hear her in my head and I hear the rumbles in my house and I think, "Dammit, it's 9:30 and I have done nothing today." And I try to get in bed before 10 so I don't fail that thing and I succeed sometimes.

In the dark, I hear the sounds of my house. My loud neighbor who talks on her cell phone. Talk of the upcoming wedding. The dishwasher.

And it overcomes me. The things I failed today. The laundry I didn't do. The form I didn't sign. The article I didn't write. The book I didn't read. They overcome me one by one and the noise they make is louder than the dishwasher and the cell phone voice and the fireworks at Disneyland and I can't sleep even though it is after 10 and I'm tired and I want to go to bed.

Everyday this happens. And every day the laundry does not get done.