I woke up in the middle of the night while on an alert status for the Air Force, and couldn’t get right back to (much needed) sleep. So if nothing else, you all get a poem about the frustration of waiting for a call that may or may not come:
I’m not supposed to be awake
For another four hours or so
When it’s time my boss will make
A call to let me know
I’ll spring up from within the bed
And throw my flightsuit on
I’ll gather up my gear and head
Out to our plane, then–gone
But it’s more likely that I’ll spend
The next day by the phone
Waiting, ready to be sent
Soon as the need is known
Several days of readiness
Yet still not called upon
Have turned my schedule to a mess
Once-peaceful sleep now gone
This leads to an odd condition
Ordered to stand by
Paid for work I haven’t done
Awaiting call to fly
And so, awake, my eyes go wide
And, breath caught in my chest,
I check the time–just past midnight
I still have hours to rest.
If I can just relax once more
And from this darkness wrest
Passage to that dreamful shore
The mind’s release from stress
So I shall embrace the dark
And hope to slip away
Into a land with lines less stark
Where thoughts and passions play
Where cares familiar and unknown
Are considered and released…
But still there is the telephone
Lurking within arm’s reach
