Upside Down Life

Last night I stayed up reading Lee Child’s book Die Trying.  It was tantalizingly wonderful.  I was disappointed to realize that I’ve already read two of his others, Tripwire and Killing Floor. 

Maybe I should just read them again?  It’s not like I remember all the details about anything, ever.  Maybe it’s just my antagonistic attitude toward repetition of any kind.

The funniest part?  I bought the book because I believed Lee Child was the same as Lincoln Child, who was recommended by www.trixfiend.wordpress.com  Evidently all authors named Child will do.

So when my husband got up for work this morning, I was still sitting in the same chair I was in when he kissed me good-night.  He looked at me like there was a bobcat sitting in our den.

There is absolutely nothing in the world that could make him choose to skip a night of sleep; he would only do so under cataclysmic circumstance.

The reality is that staying up all night turns my life upside down, which of course affects the entire family.  But sometimes I do it anyway.  I don’t particularly like always viewing my world from the same vantage point.

When I worked the third-shift at a NYC law firm I enjoyed being a part of the counter-culture.  Trips to the convenience mart were at 3 a.m. and I was able to observe hookers in action.  Not many jobs afford this type of fringe benefit.

I learned that as you approach 72-hours without sleep hallucinations are free, no drugs necessary.  Walls appear to move.

I liked the other co-workers on the night shift.  They were all relatively abnormal, cantankerous & eccentric.  Some were brilliant. 

Joe, one of the proofreaders, appeared on Jeopardy & won.  He also hyperventilated, forcing Alex Trebek to ad-lib and say, “Calm down, Joe.”  I dated Joe a couple of times, but broke up with him when he was upset my son ate the last Godiva chocolate in the box.  Combined with his inordinately excessive sweating, it was an easy decision.

The same son caught our kitchen on fire when I was working the third-shift.  I adamantly insisted on keeping him with me during the day, rarely sleeping, even though I occasionally lost the battle while he was up wandering the house.  He tried to put the fire out with his little t-shirt.  He was three at the time and very brave.

I woke to a house filled with smoke.  B lit a candle on the gas stove & then dropped it on his way to the kitchen table.  The carpet and a curtain caught fire.  It was certainly not one of my finest moments as a parent.  Fortunately, God knows I’m a moron and never leaves me without back-up.

This same situation could probably have happened just as easily if I had been in the middle of a great book, because I tend to forget everything else in the world around me.  Those would include laundry, dishes, cooking, cleaning & the fact that I’m actually supposed to be taking care of these children who call me Mom.

I love Anne Tyler’s books partly because all her characters are potential third-shifters.  One of my favorite scenes is in The Accidental Tourist, when it’s noted that all cans in the cupboard are placed there in alphabetical order. 

I would like to live in a world completely created by Ms. Tyler, one where every single person I meet is quirky & interesting.  My belief is that the planet Earth is actually made up of such people, but we’re all so busy hiding our quirks from one another that we’ve become boring in the process.

So, instead, we read.

My favorite series is by John Sandford, all of the Prey books.  I think he’s superior to John Grisham in every way, although similar.

As I grow older, non-fiction often trumps fiction.  Ann Rule is great in the true crime genre, although it annoys me that so many of her stories are ridiculously out of date.

I think my favorite fiction book ever is Cold Sassy Tree by Olive Burns.  I just discovered there is a sequel I haven’t read yet. 

Name All The Animals by Alison Smith is the only book I have ever read that made me begin to sob before I’d finished the first chapter — while standing in the aisle at Barnes & Noble.

I loved A Million Little Pieces by James Frey and could care less whether Oprah is angry that it’s partly fictional.  It was fantastic.

For sheer genius, of course, there is Augusten Burroughs, the ultimate in everything.  I would recommend either “Moving Violations” for humor or ”Tiny Crucifixions” for heartbreak, both short stories in the book Possible Side Effects.  Although his book Dry may be my very favorite.  I will no doubt forget my neighbor’s name, but Augusten’s friend Pighead is etched on my heart.

A great read is well worth turning your life upside down for a day or two.