I wake up wide in the bed of a rented small house in the early morning, just before dawn. My feet are pressed against one wall, my head against the other wall, slightly curling me to fit into the cramped bed. As advertised, the house is indeed small. When we first arrived, I joked that the place was so small that it could only fit a single roll of toilet paper in the bathroom.
As I lie in bed, I feel as if I could almost reach out and shake the toilet handle without getting up. The place isn’t that small, but the toilet is running, filling the early morning silence with a persistent gurgling sound. And the microwave clock is blinking, casting an eerie green glow. These little annoyances are waking me up.
To deal with these issues, I have to get out of bed, but I’m not ready yet. When I do, I will stand forever, still clinging to some precious hope of sleep. I worry that I haven’t gotten enough rest. I also worry that I might be worrying too much. What I need more than anything is peace of mind.
Home is currently in Vancouver, Washington, just outside Portland, Oregon. My fiancé and I have rented a temporary apartment in Vancouver. We are…