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Whoever designed this room (and whoever ok'ed the design) is an ass.  No human being can sleep in a room with curtains that don't close.  The light coming in is ungodly even at 3am in the least sunny city in the continental US.  I say this as somewhere in the next zip code, on the other side of this king size bed, my husband is peacefully sleeping.  By 4 am I was groggy enough to close my eyes again and the heating unit decided to make the sound of a passing freight train every time it kicked on.  No human being could possibly sleep with all that racket.

My husband stretches in his sleep, groans slightly and curls back up.

It is Thanksgiving 2013.  My grandmother is in from Greece for the first time in 2.5 years, I am freshly married, jobless, and in quite a pickle.  I'm sure by this time next week, things will be better. 

Pickles are only good when you can eat them.

5 am, my head is beginning to ache and my mouth is dry.  Although I'd love some conscious company, it would do no good for both of us to be awake right now.  My husband.  My husband of 12 days.  "How does it feel?" "Does it feel different now that you're married?"  Really?  It's supposed to feel different?  Did these married and previously married people feel any different when they got hitched?  Is it supposed to feel different?  The only thing that's different is now I have stopped asking him if he's sure.  Of course he's sure, and now we are stuck with each other.  I feel the same way I did 13 days ago and 3 months ago and 5 years ago.  The world is still the same.  Nothing has changed.  I wish certain things had changed, like my ability to get some sleep even when not in a soundless, lightless room.

There are members of my family that apparently are quite upset at the way I decided to handle my wedding day.  Apparently, the "my" in that sentence should be spelled "their."  I understand its that they just want to celebrate with me but there really is no compassion on their part that our ideas of celebrating this particular event are completely different. 

My day was absolutely perfect and wonderful.  Would I have enjoyed having more of our friends and family there with us?  Of course.  But we would not have been able to do it the way we did had there been more people.  It would have been an organizational nightmare not to mention an expensive day which would have, in turn, made the whole thing not perfect, not fun, not remotely something I'd look back on and smile about.  In the end, we pleased ourselves and isn't that what matters?  It was our day and it was perfect and I don’t regret a minute of it.  Nor will I apologize to anyone for it even though it breaks my heart that some people I love with all my heart are upset by it. 

I’m beyond exhausted now.  This is the first truly sleepless night I’ve had in months.  Well, there were a few all night phone calls back in February but that’s different.  It was nights like this back in Port Richmond I would surf the web and watch hulu until I drifted off.  Nights like this in Fishtown I would make 4am pancakes.  Nights like this in NY I would go to the roof and look out over Manhattan making up stories about what people were doing there at that moment.  Tonight I’m marveling in the sheer size of this bed and the fact that people can indeed sleep with light and sound and a blogging out-of-sorts woman next to them.  It’s all fair, there have been many nights where this was the other way around.  So it goes.

He has grabbed the sheets and covered himself which means he has about 2.5 hours worth of sleep left in him.  Perhaps it’s time I attempt sleep again.  Perhaps this time it will work. 

Sleep well.  Happy Thanksgiving.