Week 02 Day 05 - The Idiom Epilogue

George pulled the draw cord down. Once the hatch was within arm's reach he grabbed the bottom rung of the folding ladder and began opening it up. He climbed the tumbledown ladder slowly into the attic. Every floating particle in the confined space was irradiated by incoming sunlight; two dormer windows afforded enough natural light that no artificial light was needed during the day. George continued across the attic to his desk, which was placed below the western-most window, leaving a trapezoid of light showing on the desktop. He reached into the top drawer and withdrew a brown, fabric, hard-covered journal. He pulled a handful of pens out of the same drawer and tested each one on a scrap piece of paper until settling for a point-seven millimeter blue ballpoint. George opened the notebook, the flaring sun illuminating the white pages, and reviewed his previous entries:

GEORGE'S JARGONS

Colder than a freezer in the North Pole, January 23rd, 1942

Happier than a tickled hyena, June 19th, 1948

Scared as a possum in a graveyard, January 3rd, 1950

He then added:

Slept like a baby, March 15th, 1953

Week 02 Day 04 - The Idiom finished

George's mom was known for being a little long-winded, but despite receiving a little too much insight into her personal life, George was satisfied with the outcome of the conversation. Feeling emboldened by the confirmation of his adage, George tackled the day's workload with an increased vigor.

George drove home excited to share the lyrical invention with his wife. When he walked in, she was preparing dinner.

Hey honey!

Hey, how was work?

It was good, listen to what I came up with today.

Ok.

Ok, first, ask me how I'm doing.

I already asked you that.

No, you asked me how work was.

That's basically the same thing, I think.

Not really, I could be doing great because I'm no longer at work where I had a terrible day.

I guess, but I think in general they're substitutable.

Either way, ask me how I'm doing.

Ok, but I just want to say, whatever you're about to say would have been more impactful if you just said it the first time I asked you.

Well, it's not really appropriate when you ask "how was work?"

Is it dirty?

No, not like that, it just doesn't work when you ask like that, just ask me how I'm doing.

How...

Pretend like we just woke up, or it's the first thing in the morning.

Ok...

No, ask me how I slept.

That's kind of a weird question, don't you think?

No, not really.

How often do people ask you how you slept? Is that a common question around you're office?

Forget it then, just ask me how I'm doing.

Ok, how are you doing?

Great, thanks for asking, I slept like a baby last night.

Ew. Why are you telling people how you slept? And how do you know what a baby sleeps like? Have you ever even been in the same house as a sleeping baby? It seems a little braggy to me, I don't think people really care how you slept.

It's not braggy. They're asking how I'm doing and I'm letting them know that I'm doing great because I slept so well.

Why don't you just say that then.

That's boring, there's no poetry to it.

Poetry? They're not asking William Blake how he's feeling.

Maybe like Blake, my genius won't be recognized until long after my own lifetime.

You're really reaching for the stars on this one huh?

I think it works, the philosophy is sound. My mom liked it.

Oh, you mean the woman that birthed the "sweetest baby ever who never cried no matter what?" Pretty surprised she agreed with you. My mom watches babies for a living, I grew up surrounded by babies all the time. Sleeping like a baby, sounds like a nightmare I would have.

That seems a little over the top.

Just last night as a matter of fact, I had a dream that I was stuck in a loop, it just kept playing over and over again, and I couldn't get out of it. In the loop I would fall asleep, and then wake up three hours later completely starving and I couldn't feed myself. I had to wait for someone else to feed me.

In this dream, did you shit yourself too?

As a matter of fact, yes, I did. Turns out I was dreaming that I was a baby.

I get it. Look, I'm willing to accept that my witticisms may not be recognized immediately, but know this: I slept like a baby will be commonplace in the next fifty years.

Just like happier than a tickled hyena right?

I don't see why not. Hyenas laugh a lot. I think it works.

Week 02 Day 03 - The Idiom continued

George held the receiver to his ear for a beat, just to make sure Jeff had actually hung up. Once the extended silence satisfied George's curiosity he pressed the switch hook and quickly dialed another number.

Hello.

Hey mom, it's George.

George? Aren't you supposed to be at work?

Yes, I'm calling you from work. I had a quick question for you.

Sure, honey, go ahead.

What does I slept like a baby make you think of?

Oh, that sounds lovely.

Right? Babies are always asleep, they don't have anything to worry about, no responsibilities, they can fall asleep whenever they want.

When you were a baby, I know I've told you this before, but you were just the sweetest baby. You never cried no matter how hungry, or tired, or wet. You were so quiet that your father and I thought something might have been wrong. But I think that just sounds great, I slept like a baby, very comforting. I would love to be able to sleep like a baby, but instead I've got to deal with this wretched menopause: hot flashes, and sweats, and anxiety. My hormones...

Ok, mom.

...are just so up and down, sometimes I don't know what's left or right, and sometimes I get really, I hope you don't mind me telling you all this sweetie, but I just get so excited around your father, and other times he just makes me want to spit. And I think my chest is getting smaller. But, sleeping like a baby sounds wonderful. I don't know when the last time I've slept like a baby was, but it sure does sound nice.

Yeah, well, I mentioned at a meeting this morning that I slept like a baby last night, and the people acted like I was crazy.

I think they're the crazy ones honey, cause that sounds just splendid to me. I'd give my pearls to sleep like a baby tonight, heck, I'd give my pearls just to nap like a baby. 

Thanks, mom, I'll call you later.

Ok, honey, have a good day.

Week 02 Day 02 - The Idiom continued

After the meeting George returned to his office. He sat down at his desk, but wasn't ready to get back to work yet. Instead he reached into the top desk drawer and pulled out a small three inch by five inch black leather notebook. He removed the elastic band to hold it shut, poked the ball point pen out from between bent pages and opened it up. After staring blankly for a few minutes George began to write:

I slept like a baby...

I slept as a baby sleeps.  He crossed it out.

I slept the sleep a baby sleeps. George quickly crossed out a baby sleeps and substituted of babes. He then scratched the whole line out.

As a baby sleeps, so do... Crossed out.

...I slept like a baby.

George had confidence in his aphorism. He couldn't disconnect the idea from the hundreds of babies he'd seen sleeping in the busiest and noisiest of places: the mall, grocery store, restaurants, the airport. George needed a convincing argument. He needed more insight into life with a baby. George picked up his phone and called his friend Jeff.

Hello.

Hey Jeff, it's George, how are you doing?

Hey George, I'm doing well, it's good to hear from you. What's going on?

Well, I came into work today and I had a little disagreement with my co-workers, nothing serious, but I wanted to run something by you.

Sure.

What would you think if I told you, I slept like a baby?

What happened?

What do you mean? Nothing happened, I slept like a baby.

Yeah, but, what happened? Something had to happen to make you sleep like a baby. I mean, that sounds terrible. Did you shit your bed?

What? No, why does everyone...It's supposed to be a good thing. I slept so well it was like I was a baby.

No. George. Babies are terrible sleepers. I have two daughters.

That's why I called you. See, I slept really well last night, I fell asleep pretty much immediately, and next thing I know I'm awake, even before my alarm goes off, but I felt great. I didn't have to get up to use the bathroom, the temperature was just right, there were no sudden noises; just twelve hours of pure blissful sleep. I mean, it may have been the greatest sleep state ever achieved by man. And so I thought to myself: this must be how babies sleep. That's why they're always asleep and impossible to wake up.

I think you may have slept for twelve uninterrupted hours because you suffered from a brain aneurysm.

What?

George, did you wake up and immediately hit your head on something?

No.

Was there blood dripping from your nose when you woke up?

No.

Right. Let me tell you what a typical night with two babies is like. The three month old wakes up every two and a half to three hours to eat, which is just enough time to make your body think you're about to get some rest. And when I say "wakes up," I mean "screams uncontrollably until you get a bottle," and to show you her gratitude for the bottle she'll then fart on you the whole time she's eating. The eighteen month old, sleeps through the night, I can't complain about that. But you know what I find when she wakes up in the morning? A diaper, onesie, and bed full of piss. She sleeps so well that she pees all over herself and doesn't wake up. You know who else does that? Alcoholics. So you're telling people you either wake up every few hours with terrible gas, or you sleep so well that you urinate all over your bed and don't wake up, not unlike someone who's been drinking all night.

I was taking more of a philosophical approach.

George, in the past eighteen months do you know what the latest I've slept in was?

Ten.

Seven thirty. AM. For the past eighteen months straight. For the past three months I've been waking up at least three different times to make a bottle. I don't think you could have come up with something more opposite of the meaning you're looking to convey if you tried.

Ok, point taken. I still think, from a philosophical perspective, if you think about how a baby has no worries, and can just fall asleep anywhere, it works. Besides, it's a nice sentiment.

It's a nice sentiment to anyone who's never had kids, and if you keep saying that to people, you're going to get a reputation.

I'm not even sure I know what that means.

I'm not either. Let's start over, maybe I'm being a little close minded. 

Ok, great.

Hey George, how's it going? Did you sleep well last night?

Hey Jeff, it's going good, as a matter of fact, I slept like a baby last night.

George had been holding the receiver, waiting for a response, for about thirty seconds before he realized Jeff had hung up on him.

Week 02 Day 01 - The Idiom

George shifted the car's transmission from drive to reverse, palmed the headrest of the passenger seat, turned his head clockwise from twelve to four, and backed his car into the farthest possible parking space from the entrance of the Public Utilities building. George felt good. He'd slept well, it was Friday, and there was little traffic on his commute to work. The weather was in an even better mood: no clouds, mid-seventies, fresh air, and dew on the ground. If it weren’t for the meeting scheduled first thing in the morning George could’ve spent all day outside. Instead he would have to settle for a stroll through the parking lot.

Good morning, Sharnice!

Sharnice, simultaneously answering phone calls and responding to emails at the receptionist’s desk, attempted to respond but George was already gone before the greeting could be returned. George dropped his briefcase off at his office and reached the conference room with ten minutes to spare; the only other person present was Steve. 

Good morning, Steve.

Good morning.

How are you, how’s the baby?

I’m alright. The baby’s good, how are you?

I’m doing great actually. I don’t know why, but I slept so well last night. I guess you could say I slept like a baby.

That sounds horrible.

What? No, I mean I slept well, it was like when a baby sleeps.

Babies don’t sleep well. They wake up every 3 hours, most of the time screaming for a bottle. Sleeping like a baby would be a terrible night’s sleep.

I don’t know, whenever I see a baby they’re asleep. I think to myself, “must be nice.” I slept so well last night, I feel like I can relate now, like I get it, I slept like a baby.

Did you wake up screaming for food every three hours with shit in your underwear?

No.

Then you didn’t sleep like a baby.

I think it works, it’s kind of catchy. I slept like a baby. It’s a nice sentiment. Maybe you’re just grumpy from a lack a sleep. Maybe your baby needs to learn how to sleep like a baby.

Steve didn’t respond to this, except to glare at George while taking an extra-long sip of his coffee. They sat in silence while waiting for the remaining attendees to arrive.