Lie Here

(Intro- sung/spoken)

Sometimes when I first wake up, before I open my eyes

I have a little chat with myself

I glance at the alarm clock then slowly realize

I should get up-- or I could put this morning on the shelf

The guilt sets in as I-I ask my conscience for permission

I can’t seem to stop this pen-chant for self-admonition

This goes back and forth for minutes though it feels like hours

Should I get out of bed,

or remain in my head.  I really need to shower

Why wouldn’t I stay asleep when I could be dreaming of you?

Why wouldn’t I stay in bed when there’s so very much to do?

(Song)

Let me lie here__Quietly thinking of you

Let me lie here__With so much to do

My eyes have just opened__I’m still in my bed

But-I can’t still the mem’ries__Of you in my head

It’s time to get up__Get-this show on the road

But-I can’t move a muscle__My heart is too heavy--  a loaaaaaad.

Let me lie here__With you in my heart

Let me lie here__Knowing not where to start

My lists are all waiting__With hands on their hips

But I can think only__Of your tender lips

It’s time to get moving__I really will try

But I keep on replaying__The last time we said--  good-byyyye

(Instrumental)

(Bridge 1)

The morning has come__And you’re far away

I’m left to imagine__What you’ll do today

My day has begun __Yet I can’t move an inch

Without your arms wrapping me__ Up in a clinch

(Repeat first verse)

(Bridge 2)

Oh-oh-oh let me lie here__ with you in my heart

Wrapped up in blankets and yearning

Let me lie here__ so far apart

Alone in my bed but so crowded by burning… desires

Let me lie here__Quietly thinking of you… mm-mmmm

Awake

Recently I exchanged emails with a lovely man on a dating site. He was just my type. I know my type because my girlfriend made me make out a list of the important qualities I would need in a man for him to qualify as boyfriend material.

“Be specific,” she said, “and do it now, while I’m sitting here watching you.”
I grabbed a piece of scrap paper and scribbled, ‘smart, funny, kind,’ then added, ‘employed.’ I handed my friend the paper, saying, “here.” She handed it back and said now go put it under your pillow.
“All the way upstairs?”
“Yes,” she said, “I’ll wait.”
I said, “So, you’re saying this won’t work if I put it in the cheese drawer of my refrigerator?”
“Under your pillow, smartass,” she said.
So I did. And she waited.

Apparently it worked. This guy’s profile was smiling, smart, age-appropriate and there was no inappropriate use of quotation marks-- as in, “I really ‘enjoy’ canoeing.” We liked similar movies, similar music and he seemed sweet and funny on the phone. We made a plan to meet for a quick lunch and I told him to call anytime after 8am to firm our plans and that I had until 2pm. He said that he hoped he would be awake in time. I thought, hmm, awake? Well, that’s when most people call, after they wake up. Did he mean awake in time to have lunch? Well, I guess I’ll find out.

At 10:45am he emailed. He apologized for not contacting me sooner, not because he had just woken up but because he hadn’t gone to sleep yet-- from the night before. Apparently the stress of being bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in order to meet potential lady friends had taken its toll and he had been suffering from debilitating insomnia for a while now, or more specifically, ever since he joined the dating site scene. But then he added brightly that he really liked the way I write and wouldn’t it be fun to continue emailing? Then he wrapped up with, “Why don’t you tell me all about yourself? That way I can reply at 3am when I’m awake and you’re asleep.”

I thought about his offer for about four minutes, then I wrote back to him. Very politely and with grace and empathy I wrote that although he was clearly a great guy, I wasn’t looking for a pen pal. I wrote that I want to see his face and hear his laugh. I want to go to the movies, hold hands and maybe split a chocolate nut brownie ala mode—none of which I could do to my level of satisfaction online. I wished him well and said that if he every gets his sleeping issues in order, he would be welcome to call. He wrote me a very friendly, understanding response.

That night as I was arranging my pillows for bed—at 10pm-- I came across that rumpled piece of paper; the list. I took it out and read it again. It never occurred to me that I would have to be so specific. I just assumed that there were some things that were a given; some things that I could actually take for granted. But, apparently not. I would have to be very specific. So I grabbed a pen off my night stand and scrolled down my rumpled list; smart, funny, kind, employed,” then I added, “nice to kids, likes his mother, chews with mouth closed,” and “awake.”