Sleeping Away from Home

Something that seems to elude me when traveling is good sleep.

I enjoy some aspects of traveling--especially changing timezones so that the end of the Orioles game is at 8PM, or the end of a nighttime football game is right at my 10PM bedtime.

But then the fun begins--finding the best way to enjoy the bed provided to me for sleep.

I think that most of the problem is that I am alone--and so I have too much space to fill. Chris is not next to me and neither is Makayla nor the cats. While this should be an advantage, it seems that it isn't.

It is too quiet and too still.

There is no reassuring breathing (or panting in the case of Makayla) to create the sounds that mean sleep to me. I can't feel me bed mates struggling to carve out their own piece of the bed.

I am alone with a lot of space to fill.

And pillows--seemingly a multitude of pillows, yet none exactly like the ones that I am comfortable wrapping my arms around or placing my head upon.

And it is too hot or too cold.

No matter where the thermostat is set--it is wrong at some time. I find I like my hotel room a bit warmer than the default temperature. But even though I set the thermostat for the same temperature as home--it is not right.

I sleep. But in spurts.

I check the clock constantly. Sometimes on the half hour hoping that I had slept and it is time to get started on the day.

But no--it usually doesn't happen.

And that brings the weird dreams. Like last night when I was riding a bicycle with a flat tire, double with Chris, and we stopped at a gas station for air where they were fishing and a some professional soccer players were having their cars fixed before heading off to soccer training camp. Someone needed a boat to go fishing in the river, where the air pump was.

Really, I can't make this stuff up--well, I guess I did.

-- Bob Doan, Writing from Denver, CO