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12:24 AM.



The phone rings.



Was that the first ring? Fighting to awaken, thoughts of dreams hang in my mind. There was a phone ringing in my dream as well. No matter.



“Hello.”



“Sorry to bother you. The fire department is here.”



A new record, this was my best time yet. Back on site in 27 minutes. This record should not be broken, not soon anyway.



………………..



What have I done? Sleep, will you ever forgive me? This fight of ours has lasted for too long. As a child I wished you to leave; the fault is mine to know and to bear. Please return.



Your hold is soft, but not gentle nor caring. No, it is a tease that is quick to leave. You torment instead of comfort.



Sleep, you are in the room with me now. I feel your sting on my eyes when they close. Please end this fight, I wish to quarrel no more. Come, grab hold of me, choke me if you must; do not let go so easily.

It is another early morning. Another phone call, that painful ring broke into my weak sleep. Difficulties and problems on the far end of line. I am moving as if the sleep was finished hours ago.



At work in thirty minutes; perhaps it was thirty-two. The sad realization comes; no one is surprised to see me at this hour. Not a second look from anyone as I walk past.



Now it is over. The steady beat of progress continues as though nothing had ever been awry.



More has been learned from this; things will be changed. Yet, nothing will be different for me. The forthcoming call is inevitable.



Why do I do this? Is this fun, this cruel game that pulls me from my home?



Yes, I do enjoy it ... at least a little. It is not for pride, though, as some may think. Nor is it for respect.



Pride, what is that? What does it truly mean to be proud, and proud of what? What does one have that cannot be taken away? Pride is a silly emotion that is useful for those that need its security.



Respect is a thing that comes when you are competent ... either at the task or competent at being a charlatan. Regardless of the source, I am not concerned with the aquisition of other's respect. It will come or it will not. Demand it as some general might? No.



So, why am I here ... again? The adrenaline no longer comes. No longer is there the fevered excitement with each call.



It must be the challenge. Yes, the trial to be passed. The obstacle to overcome. Am I still sharp enough, are my wits honed? Is there strength enough to force another hour from body? To what extremes may I drive this that I have been given?



Who would know unless they try?