Windows & Eyes Wide Shut

by Cathy

I love two things: sleep and nice weather.

I love them even more when I can get them at the same time. However, Chicago weather rarely allows you the opportunity to crack open the windows of your house because the temperature here goes from 30 degrees to 90 degrees overnight - which means you can have the heat on one day and the air conditioning on, the next; no natural air flow.

When all the weather Gods decide to smile down upon Chicago and all the planets align and the earth is at the most precise point on its axis to where I get to throw open my windows and let some natural air flow into my stale, incubated home, I revel in the act. Once the crack is heard and the humidity-swollen windows unseal themselves from their frames, I lift them high above my head like an Olympic weightlifting champ and take in the summer breeze that blows through my hair as I shut my eyes and smile widely - much like those women do in those commercials for anything from chocolate to shampoo.

Having the windows open is a perfect compromise for me and Joe because he H-A-T-E-S the air conditioner much like a vampire hates holy water. At night, we settle in for a comfortable night's sleep, feeling the cool breeze flow in as we snuggle under the summer blankets and sleep like a babies until...

...someone's godforsaken, f*&^$ing car alarm undoubtedly will go off at some insane time of the morning - every morning I get to sleep in. WEEE-OOOOOOO-WEEEEE-OOOOOOOO-WEEEEEE-OOOOOOO-WEEEEE-OOOOOOOO and on and on until I start dreaming, half-awake, that I am releasing the safety on my rifle as I prop myself out of that open window and aim at the alarmed car - alarmed by some phantom force that comes out only to nudge cars into shriek mode and annoy me when I have my windows open and trying to sleep in.

...one of my neighbors decides to mow the lawn (again, at an insane time of morning - don't these people ever sleep IN?) with the loudest electric lawn mower on the face of the earth, then uses a leaf blower to blow debris off his property and onto mine (I never understood the purpose for those damned things) and then uses an edge trimmer to get his lawn to look more manicured than my nails will ever be. And now...I'm up.

...one of the 1,397 dogs within a one block radius of my building will inevitably see that phantom force haunting all the car alarms in the area or maybe just notice a bee buzzing by, but they will bark their hearts and lungs out until they are satisfied with how well they've done their dog duty for the day. This is usually followed by the owner's urgent, reprimanding requests to stop. So it will go like this: bark, bark, bark, bark, bark, howl, bark, bark, bark-bark, bark, howl, bark, bark-bark-bark, bark..."Timber! Stop!" Bark, bark, bark, bark, bark-bark, "TIMBER!" And guess what? Now, I'm up and annoyed as hell.

...you know how in Cinderella when the sweet, little chirping birds gracefully and beautifully sing-song the sleeping maiden awake in the morning and braid her hair and make her bed and give her a bath and help get her dressed? If a bird is going to do all that for me, then that's the only time it's okay for it to sit on my windowsill and shriek out it's little chirping bird call. Otherwise, it should go sit on the windowsill of the dog owners/landscape artists who are already awake and bringing down the neighborhood.

...and finally, I know they're just doing their jobs but when the garbage and recycling trucks come through at 7am and of course, they need to reverse, because who can always drive straight ahead down an alley, right? When they reverse through the crossroads of my back alleys, the automatic safety feature kicks in to alert the entire neighborhood that the truck is reversing with a series of BEEEEEP-BEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEPS. Then there is a pause as he straightens out the truck, only to reverse again: BEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP-BEEEEEEP. "WHOA!!!" screams the spotter to the driver, who can't see what he is inches away from hitting. We get this TWO mornings a week - once with regular garbage pick up and once with recycling. I know, I know, I should be thankful that we HAVE garbage pick-up and that I am not living in squalor being swallowed up by my own wasteful consumption. But can't they do it at lunchtime?

Of course let's not forget the fire trucks, ambulances and kids that wake up at the ass-crack of dawn who are out playing and screaming and fighting while their bleary-eyed parents are face-planted in a mug of coffee the size of a flower planter and too tired to shush them down.


I am well aware that I sound like a cantankerous old fart and you would think I'd be used to all this by now given that I was born and raised in Chi-town. However, when I was younger, I could sleep through a world war. Now that I've had kids my body has programmed me to hear a pin drop in the middle of the night.

Maybe it's my age. Maybe I'm getting to old for city living. Maybe I ought to move to the suburbs. Or maybe...I should just keep my windows sealed shut FOREVER so I can get some shut-eye.