I'm Wide Awake, It's Morning

When it comes to sleep, Aaron and I have always been incompatible. Our bodies are wired differently. I need rather large quantities of sleep at reasonable times, and when I start feeling tired I don't have long before I absolutely have to go to sleep (or risk falling asleep wherever I am). I can get up early, but I don't like it, and it usually takes me about two hours to feel human after waking.

Aaron is a crash-and-burn kind of guy: he can stay up all night, especially while working on a video project, and not nap. I call this behavior his "editing vortex" because he goes into his office and doesn't come out until he has to--and that's only for things like going to work or using the bathroom. I bring him food, and sometimes drinks, because he might forget otherwise. I hear strange noises from time to time (usually from wedding singers through blown-out church microphones) but in some ways, he ceases to exist. Eventually, he comes out, needing a shower and some rest, and if he's worked particularly hard, he'll sleep as long as I'll let him the next day.

Even right now, I've been up since a little after 6:00, walking around the apartment looking for things I can do that won't make too much noise, because I know he's exhausted. He gets home from work between 10:45 and midnight five days a week, so I understand that early mornings don't work for him. We recently instituted a rule that states I don't have to worry about being quiet after 9:00, unless he posts a note on the refrigerator telling me that he was up until some unholy hour and needs to sleep in as long as he can to make up for it.

It's no surprise that on our second (and final) day in Mumbai, I woke up at 7:00. There was just enough light coming in around the full-wall curtain blocking the balcony and windows that my body registered it as a cue to get out of bed and DO SOMETHING. I had the same problem I have at home, though. What can I do that won't make noise but that will make me feel like I'm accomplishing something?

I wanted to be out in the streets, seeing as much as I could before we left that afternoon. But I couldn't go alone because it wasn't entirely safe and I'm a bit too trusting. I couldn't look out for myself the way I would need to because I would be too busy figuring out where I was going and keeping track of where I was in relation to the hotel. Without a map, I wouldn't risk it, anyway. I settled for what I could get, and went out on the balcony to look out over the square and the harbor.

How can you not want to be out when the morning looks like that?

I quickly realized that my pajamas were not appropriate attire when I noticed quite a few men staring up at me. I sighed and went back into the room. The sound of the door and the movement of the curtain made Aaron mumble in his sleep, so I knew I had to stop moving around so much. He hadn't fallen asleep as early as I had.

I was at a loss, though, because everything made noise. I couldn't go into my suitcase to get dressed, because that would be too loud. I wanted a snack, but those were also in the suitcases. I could take a shower, but then I couldn't dry my hair or get dressed afterwards, so there was no point getting ready this early. I felt trapped in the room. I felt resentful.

I was also freezing. In hotels, Aaron likes to crank the air conditioning as cold as possible because it makes him feel like he's sleeping in his childhood bedroom in the middle of winter. It was too cold and dark to try to mess with the controls on it, and if its hum stopped, Aaron would surely wake up (and be very annoyed with me). I put on Aaron's hooded sweatshirt, wrapped myself in a few dry towels, and sat at the desk for an hour and a half, writing.

When he woke up, he saw me huddled in a chair in a baggy sweatshirt, probably looking a little frenzied because I was so glad he was finally awake. Ninety minutes of writing and listening to my husband snore really helped me feel human again. He laughed a little, because he knew exactly why I was draped in towels, scribbling in a notebook, and letting my stomach growl audibly.

He hadn't even swung his feet off the edge of the bed before I was in my suitcase, rummaging for what I would wear that day and making plans. And making lots of noise.