Counting Shoes Instead of Sheep

Counting shoes instead of sheep,
Damn, I wish that I could sleep!
Too much on my weary mind –
Single mother’s gag-me grind.

Where the heck is that good booze?
Higher proof for taller shoes!
(Kiddo’s in his room in bed,
I’ve got time for sipping red…)

This, the week from hell, no doubt,
While I’d like to weep or shout,
Mother duty always calls,
Even as my rhythm stalls.

What’s required? Calm and cool,
No more pouting, no more drool,
Gotta stop the chocolate binge;
Wine won’t make my zippers cringe!

What if now I try some heels?
(Married one; got better deals
From DSW and the rest
For little feet that like the best.)

I can try on snakeskin mules,
Patent pumps or slides with jewels!
That and just one glass of wine –
Surely then I will be fine!

When those doors are closed at night
I can cry or dream of flight –
Choose a film (or tennis match),
Let solutions ooze or hatch,

Maybe then the lids will droop,
Sleep will come and I’ll regroup,
And if not I’ll try again;
Could it be I need some Zen?

Would that I were not Type A!
That’s just me, what can I say?
Try and try I have these years,
Walking, writing, quelling fears,

To remake myself and this,
Life somehow, remains amiss;
Even shoes and kids that please
Still result in stolen zzzzzs.

Now I lay me down to snooze,
Once again, no time to lose,
Morning’s here before we know,
Heels go on and off I go!

Sleep deprived, I know – I’m scary!
Rhyming crimes should make you wary!
I’ll repent (for now) and stop,
Hit the bed (a belly flop) –

If I’m lucky, then I’ll dream,
Wake with vigor, hope, and beam.
Until then I’ll count more shoes,
Always good to cure the blues.