4:14.

My daughter was crying and complaining about an itchy rash on her legs.  I picked her up and carried her through a field of tall grass.  At the bottom my HIGH SCHOOL BOYFRIEND was waiting in a van parked by the side of the road. We reached the van and tumbled inside, it was warm and comfortable.  But my daughter suddenly turned into a cat and tried to jump out the half opened front window.

I woke with a raging headache to the sounds of truck noise on the highway and fumbled around in the dark for a bottle of Excedrin.  I was quiet, trying to not wake my husband, but after ten seconds stealth mode became bitch mode and I let out a loud "FUCK".  Husband later admitted that he was already awake because of the back up beeps of heavy equipment over in the sledding hill parking lot.  I medicated myself and got back into bed, cradling my head in the softest pillow I could find.  But it was no good.  Solid sleep never again arrived and I finally officially got up around 6 am.  

I was annoyed, filled with a sense of fleeting anxiety over my daughter . She is not 4, not small enough for me to carry.  She is 19 and at that time of day she was in fact nestled into her own bed, an hour away, probably with her cat.  I was annoyed at the truck noise, a constant here in our home, in the mountains yet far too close to the highway which brings us here.  I was in fact mostly annoyed at not getting to spend more time in the van with my HIGH SCHOOL BOYFRIEND.  It was warm, filled with golden light and a sense of peace.  Why am I thinking about HIGH SCHOOL BOYFRIEND?  Jesse.  That's right, I've watched too many episodes of Breaking Bad and "Jesse" is strikingly a dead ringer for HIGH SCHOOL BOYFRIEND.