Weary of busy streets with people buzzing, we turn to our solitude in the wee hours of night. It's forty nine past two and my eyes have yet to tire itself from the speedy two-hour rush of food tripping at the newly-opened fastfood chain down at the office. You know, just to be part of history and catch something to bite. After a few courtsies with our boss who happens to be carrying her third child in her womb and who happened to brush her tummy against mine so I could catch the baby fever 9hopefulyl soon it will hit me), my husband, my bestfriend and I munched in on our treat with gusto.

An hour has passed or two and we're on our way back home to get our other half of slumber. We've been trying to catch as much sleep lately for all the sleepless days the past weeks. Then now I'm back to where I started.

Lying on my belly and with my feet beside my hubby's face, I'm gently putting my thoughts into an organized coherently substantial form of literary piece whatever but seems to me the bed could only get the best of me this dawn. I dream of a cozy yellow lighted four-post bed whitened by draperies and linens aflowing, my hubby beside me to retire the night with, where I can rest my worries tonight and hopefully get the better view in the morning.

I think it's time to turn it down low- lights off please.