I've had this craving for a while and I can't shake it. That's probably because I don't know what I'm craving.
I'm hungry, even when I'm full. I'm thirsty, even after drinking lots of water. It's as if my body -- my brain -- is missing something it absolutely must have. I just don't know what it is.
It's driving me crazy. It's making me restless.
I don't know how to handle this restlessness in my budget conscious state. Back in the debt-building time, it was this sort of restless rumbling that used to send me off on some sort of impulsive buying binge or would prompt me to hop in the car and head out on some road trip.
Now, I don't know what to do. I look in the fridge. I open the cabinets. I stare longingly at the computer screen waiting for inspiration on what I should be doing.
The insomnia is coming back. I need a change. I need a focus. I need a destination. What, the hell am I looking for?
But there are no answers.
I want something. Something else. I just don't know what it is or where to look for it.
Showing posts with label Insomnia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Insomnia. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 07, 2010
Sunday, January 06, 2008
The vampire within
The date on the calendar says it's a new year, but something hasn't changed. I'm still dealing with insomnia.
Obviously, I haven't been using the sleepless nights to make blog posts though. I did use the time to update some things on the blog. I added some iMixes through iTunes.
But the rest of the time has been spent watching a lot of movies mostly late at night. During the work week, the insomnia means I get less sleep at night. On weekends though, I get plenty of sleep, it's just not during nighttime hours.
Last night for example, I ended up staying up pretty much all night. I finally turned in about 7 a.m. So I pretty much ended up sleeping through the daylight hours of Sunday, waking up shortly before sundown. I guess if I ever seek a new profession I should put vampire, or anything involving a graveyard shift on my potential jobs' list.
The sleep schedule doesn't cause any real problems for the weekend, but now that the work week is getting ready to start again, I'm a little concerned. Especially since, here it is midnight, and I'm still awake (and just had dinner).
Clearly, I should be roaming the streets looking for warm-blooded mammals to suck dry for sustenance.
Obviously, I haven't been using the sleepless nights to make blog posts though. I did use the time to update some things on the blog. I added some iMixes through iTunes.
But the rest of the time has been spent watching a lot of movies mostly late at night. During the work week, the insomnia means I get less sleep at night. On weekends though, I get plenty of sleep, it's just not during nighttime hours.
Last night for example, I ended up staying up pretty much all night. I finally turned in about 7 a.m. So I pretty much ended up sleeping through the daylight hours of Sunday, waking up shortly before sundown. I guess if I ever seek a new profession I should put vampire, or anything involving a graveyard shift on my potential jobs' list.
The sleep schedule doesn't cause any real problems for the weekend, but now that the work week is getting ready to start again, I'm a little concerned. Especially since, here it is midnight, and I'm still awake (and just had dinner).
Clearly, I should be roaming the streets looking for warm-blooded mammals to suck dry for sustenance.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Burning moonlight
The insomnia is back.
For several nights now I've found myself still awake well after 3 or 4 in the morning. It's been damn hard to fall asleep and even more difficult to get up when the alarm goes off in the morning.
I got comfortable on the couch this evening after work, the exhaustion taking over. Sleep came easy enough then, but it didn't last long. I got maybe a half our of rest before I was wide awake again, my mind racing like a car sitting in neutral with the engine running and the gas pedal pressed to the floor. We ain't goin' anywhere, but we are getting there in one hell of a hurry.
The insomnia is like a barometer, but instead of signalling a change in weather the sleeplessness signals the need for some sort of life change.
A few months back there were a couple of options in the works that looked like they might prompt some major life changes. But those options have new fallen through. The desire for a life changes is no less strong now, but the options to make that happen are far less clear.
How do I get our of this rut? How do a move forward? To what purpose will this next phase of my life be dedicated?
The answers are still elusive. As is sleep.
I'm going to try to see if I can get a few more hours of sleep tonight and go to bed "early." It's only a little after 1 a.m. It would be my earliest bedtime of the week if successful.
For several nights now I've found myself still awake well after 3 or 4 in the morning. It's been damn hard to fall asleep and even more difficult to get up when the alarm goes off in the morning.
I got comfortable on the couch this evening after work, the exhaustion taking over. Sleep came easy enough then, but it didn't last long. I got maybe a half our of rest before I was wide awake again, my mind racing like a car sitting in neutral with the engine running and the gas pedal pressed to the floor. We ain't goin' anywhere, but we are getting there in one hell of a hurry.
The insomnia is like a barometer, but instead of signalling a change in weather the sleeplessness signals the need for some sort of life change.
A few months back there were a couple of options in the works that looked like they might prompt some major life changes. But those options have new fallen through. The desire for a life changes is no less strong now, but the options to make that happen are far less clear.
How do I get our of this rut? How do a move forward? To what purpose will this next phase of my life be dedicated?
The answers are still elusive. As is sleep.
I'm going to try to see if I can get a few more hours of sleep tonight and go to bed "early." It's only a little after 1 a.m. It would be my earliest bedtime of the week if successful.
Friday, May 11, 2007
I've got to get turned on to turn off
I've tried all sorts of things over the years to trick my mind into turning off so I can sleep, with varying degrees of success.
I'm not sure if I'm a classic insomniac or not, because most nights that I "can't sleep" I'm really not even trying. Instead I watch bad late night TV, goof around on the computer, get wrapped up into some little project, pick that time to do household chores.
Rarely do I lay in the dark staring off toward the ceiling begging for sleep. However, I did do that a lot as a child. Until the age when my mom no longer set a bedtime for me, it was not uncommon that I would lay in bed, daydreaming some elaborate scenario about the adventures I would have as an adult.
The only times the insomnia really causes problem are few. There are periodically days that the alarm clock is not enough to roust me from the sleep that has finally come sometime in the pre-dawn (or occasionally post-dawn) hours. The only other times it has been real noticeable is when I have been sharing my bed with someone else.
A few years back when I was working a late shift, my ex would either be getting ready for bed or would already be asleep on the couch with the TV on. After getting her to bed, she would usually demand that I lay next to her until she fell back asleep, which usually took all of 30 seconds. It used to fascinate me that a person could fall asleep so quickly, easily and regularly. It seemed magical to me. As soon as the clock would strike 11 p.m. she would undergo a transformation. We could be in the middle of a conversation and suddenly I would realize that she wasn't talking anymore. Even if her eyes weren't closed she would be in a near catatonic state. If you didn't get her to bed and horizontal soon, she would fall over wherever she was sitting.
Often as she slept I would lay there next to her and watch her sleep as if I looked close enough and hard enough I could discover her secret for effortless sleep. To make matters worse, she was a morning person, up early, going through an elaborate routine, parading in and out the patio door, just inches from my side of the bed. Fortunately, most mornings if I'm awakened by some sound, like a sliding patio door, a ringing phone or an alarm clock, all I have to do is plop back into bed or roll over and I'm out again almost instantly (if only I could do that at the beginning of the night, rather than the morning).
No, instead I work myself into a state of complete mental and physical exhaustion most nights before I can turn off the light and crawl into bed. I have a love-hate relationship with my bed. I hate crawling into it but I love being in it once I'm asleep and hate to leave it.
One thing that I have tried recently that has worked is listening to mellow music or some certain podcasts on my iPod at night. If and when the day ever comes again when I do share my bed with someone again, I don't know if that will go over too well. Some people seem to like quiet when they sleep. Quiet doesn't work for me, very well, because if it's quiet then every little sound is an interruption. Cars, sirens, neighbors talking, walking, flushing the toilet. Every little sound scratches on frazzled and frayed nerves. I need a low hum of some type to drown out the little noises outside my room, until I reach a deep sleep anyway. After that, a freight train could roar past my window and I wouldn't care.
I guess it's time to put on a podcast, or maybe some Diana Krall or Nora Jones. My favorite podcasts to dream to haven't had any new episodes in a while.
I'm not sure if I'm a classic insomniac or not, because most nights that I "can't sleep" I'm really not even trying. Instead I watch bad late night TV, goof around on the computer, get wrapped up into some little project, pick that time to do household chores.
Rarely do I lay in the dark staring off toward the ceiling begging for sleep. However, I did do that a lot as a child. Until the age when my mom no longer set a bedtime for me, it was not uncommon that I would lay in bed, daydreaming some elaborate scenario about the adventures I would have as an adult.
The only times the insomnia really causes problem are few. There are periodically days that the alarm clock is not enough to roust me from the sleep that has finally come sometime in the pre-dawn (or occasionally post-dawn) hours. The only other times it has been real noticeable is when I have been sharing my bed with someone else.
A few years back when I was working a late shift, my ex would either be getting ready for bed or would already be asleep on the couch with the TV on. After getting her to bed, she would usually demand that I lay next to her until she fell back asleep, which usually took all of 30 seconds. It used to fascinate me that a person could fall asleep so quickly, easily and regularly. It seemed magical to me. As soon as the clock would strike 11 p.m. she would undergo a transformation. We could be in the middle of a conversation and suddenly I would realize that she wasn't talking anymore. Even if her eyes weren't closed she would be in a near catatonic state. If you didn't get her to bed and horizontal soon, she would fall over wherever she was sitting.
Often as she slept I would lay there next to her and watch her sleep as if I looked close enough and hard enough I could discover her secret for effortless sleep. To make matters worse, she was a morning person, up early, going through an elaborate routine, parading in and out the patio door, just inches from my side of the bed. Fortunately, most mornings if I'm awakened by some sound, like a sliding patio door, a ringing phone or an alarm clock, all I have to do is plop back into bed or roll over and I'm out again almost instantly (if only I could do that at the beginning of the night, rather than the morning).
No, instead I work myself into a state of complete mental and physical exhaustion most nights before I can turn off the light and crawl into bed. I have a love-hate relationship with my bed. I hate crawling into it but I love being in it once I'm asleep and hate to leave it.
One thing that I have tried recently that has worked is listening to mellow music or some certain podcasts on my iPod at night. If and when the day ever comes again when I do share my bed with someone again, I don't know if that will go over too well. Some people seem to like quiet when they sleep. Quiet doesn't work for me, very well, because if it's quiet then every little sound is an interruption. Cars, sirens, neighbors talking, walking, flushing the toilet. Every little sound scratches on frazzled and frayed nerves. I need a low hum of some type to drown out the little noises outside my room, until I reach a deep sleep anyway. After that, a freight train could roar past my window and I wouldn't care.
I guess it's time to put on a podcast, or maybe some Diana Krall or Nora Jones. My favorite podcasts to dream to haven't had any new episodes in a while.
Monday, June 05, 2006
Monsters in the dark
In years past I would often have trouble falling a sleep at night because I couldn't shut my mind off. The minute I would go to bed I'd start thinking about all the things I needed to do the next day. And if I was stressed out about work, it was worse. Those are the times when I noticed the sleeplessness patterns the most.
But now it's different. For some reason I just dread going to bed. It's not like I hate my room, or my mattress or my bedding. I just hate going to bed.
I think the thing is that I hate going to bed alone.
You'd think I would be used to it by now. It's been two apartments, two different mattresses and two years since I've shared a bed with anyone. The funny thing is I've been sleeping alone again now for longer than my last relationship itself lasted.
I think I've put all the other baggage of that particular failed relationship behind me. The grieving for the person and the relationship itself has run its course. But I miss having someone to snuggle up with at night. Even on nights I had trouble falling asleep I would just lie there and listen to the person beside me breathing. Watching her sleep and listening to her breathing, slow was soothing, felt warm. Relaxing. In spite of myself, at some point, I would fall asleep.
We think of sex as intimacy, but it's always struck me as much more intimate, more a sign of trust, to be able to sleep -- literally sleep with someone. To expose ourselves at our most vulnerable to another. When we are asleep. To let someone see us at our gape-mouthed, snoring, drooling, hair-tousled, talking-in-our-sleep most vulnerable is a sign of trust.
I miss that. I miss having someone to snuggle up with. I miss having that special someone to wrap my arms around to make them feel protected with the truth is they are keeping my heart safe and warm. Even at those times where you want a little space like those nights it's too warm and skin on skin contacts is just to hot and uncomfortable to sleep. It's still reassuring to know someone is there, a few inches away, an easy reach when things turn too chilly or too dark. Sometimes we all need someone to chase away the monsters. The really scary monsters only come out at night, when the world is quiet.
It's pretty comical in retrospect. I used to dread sharing a bed with someone. Does she hog the covers? Do I? Will my snoring keep her awake? But mostly I like having room to spread out.
I remember one girlfriend years ago used to be a real snuggler and it drove me nuts. I needed a little space in order to sleep. Room to stretch and roll and toss and turn. I had been used to sprawling out all over the bed in my single days. But with her, there was no chance of that.
She had one of those old-fashioned waterbeds, with the padded siderails that surrounded a sloshing, bad of water that sent tidal wives across the mattress every time someone moved. It was a big bed, and we'd start out on our respective sides of the bed, but throughout the night she kept up the invasion of my territory and I would execute a tactical retreat. By morning I would end up sleeping half on the siderail and half down in the gap between the rail and the so-called mattress. Another person, or two, could have fit on the open mattress on the other side of that fucking, miserable bed.
Back then, I used to dread it when my girlfriend would tell me it was time to go to bed. What? Were we attached at the hip? Did we have to go to bed at the exact same time every night? The truth of the matter was I wanted some alone time. I wanted out of the relationship actually, I just hadn't worked up the nerve to tell her yet, or maybe even to admit it to myself.
And there were times in my last relationship I must admit I resented the whole going to bed at the same time thing. I was a night person and my ex was not. She could fall asleep literally as soon as her head hit the pillow. I used to think that was just an expression, but apparently some people have that gift. And I did see it as a gift. I was often jealous of her ability to just turn everything off and fall sound asleep so quickly. I've never been able to do that, not even as a child. Not unless I drive myself to the very brink of exhaustion. Anyway, I'd lay with her for a while and she'd fall asleep sometimes in the middle of a conversation. I'd watch TV, or watch her sleep, or both, resisting the urge to get back up and do something. Somehow my breathing would synchronize with hers. I would relax. And then, somewhere in the quiet, I'd fall asleep.
Maybe I can just get one of those baby monitors and find a woman who lives in range who will let me listen to her sleep. They even make the things with little cameras now, so I could even watch her sleep.
Or would that be just be a little too creepy?
Technorati tags: Insomnia
Sleeping alone
But now it's different. For some reason I just dread going to bed. It's not like I hate my room, or my mattress or my bedding. I just hate going to bed.
I think the thing is that I hate going to bed alone.
You'd think I would be used to it by now. It's been two apartments, two different mattresses and two years since I've shared a bed with anyone. The funny thing is I've been sleeping alone again now for longer than my last relationship itself lasted.
I think I've put all the other baggage of that particular failed relationship behind me. The grieving for the person and the relationship itself has run its course. But I miss having someone to snuggle up with at night. Even on nights I had trouble falling asleep I would just lie there and listen to the person beside me breathing. Watching her sleep and listening to her breathing, slow was soothing, felt warm. Relaxing. In spite of myself, at some point, I would fall asleep.
We think of sex as intimacy, but it's always struck me as much more intimate, more a sign of trust, to be able to sleep -- literally sleep with someone. To expose ourselves at our most vulnerable to another. When we are asleep. To let someone see us at our gape-mouthed, snoring, drooling, hair-tousled, talking-in-our-sleep most vulnerable is a sign of trust.
I miss that. I miss having someone to snuggle up with. I miss having that special someone to wrap my arms around to make them feel protected with the truth is they are keeping my heart safe and warm. Even at those times where you want a little space like those nights it's too warm and skin on skin contacts is just to hot and uncomfortable to sleep. It's still reassuring to know someone is there, a few inches away, an easy reach when things turn too chilly or too dark. Sometimes we all need someone to chase away the monsters. The really scary monsters only come out at night, when the world is quiet.
It's pretty comical in retrospect. I used to dread sharing a bed with someone. Does she hog the covers? Do I? Will my snoring keep her awake? But mostly I like having room to spread out.
I remember one girlfriend years ago used to be a real snuggler and it drove me nuts. I needed a little space in order to sleep. Room to stretch and roll and toss and turn. I had been used to sprawling out all over the bed in my single days. But with her, there was no chance of that.
She had one of those old-fashioned waterbeds, with the padded siderails that surrounded a sloshing, bad of water that sent tidal wives across the mattress every time someone moved. It was a big bed, and we'd start out on our respective sides of the bed, but throughout the night she kept up the invasion of my territory and I would execute a tactical retreat. By morning I would end up sleeping half on the siderail and half down in the gap between the rail and the so-called mattress. Another person, or two, could have fit on the open mattress on the other side of that fucking, miserable bed.
Back then, I used to dread it when my girlfriend would tell me it was time to go to bed. What? Were we attached at the hip? Did we have to go to bed at the exact same time every night? The truth of the matter was I wanted some alone time. I wanted out of the relationship actually, I just hadn't worked up the nerve to tell her yet, or maybe even to admit it to myself.
And there were times in my last relationship I must admit I resented the whole going to bed at the same time thing. I was a night person and my ex was not. She could fall asleep literally as soon as her head hit the pillow. I used to think that was just an expression, but apparently some people have that gift. And I did see it as a gift. I was often jealous of her ability to just turn everything off and fall sound asleep so quickly. I've never been able to do that, not even as a child. Not unless I drive myself to the very brink of exhaustion. Anyway, I'd lay with her for a while and she'd fall asleep sometimes in the middle of a conversation. I'd watch TV, or watch her sleep, or both, resisting the urge to get back up and do something. Somehow my breathing would synchronize with hers. I would relax. And then, somewhere in the quiet, I'd fall asleep.
Maybe I can just get one of those baby monitors and find a woman who lives in range who will let me listen to her sleep. They even make the things with little cameras now, so I could even watch her sleep.
Or would that be just be a little too creepy?
Technorati tags: Insomnia
Sleeping alone
Friday, June 02, 2006
I lost her in a dream
The alarm clock is set to go off shortly, but it doesn't matter. I'm already awake. I woke up from an unsettling dream shortly before 5 a.m., after not getting to bed until late, and couldn't go back to sleep.
The dream wasn't bad, or what I would classify as a nightmare, but it was unsettling for some strange reason.
I was in a large room in London, participating in a panel discussion that was being either broadcast online or recorded for online distribution. I was on the panel with a couple of podcasters, some other dude who resembled a high school classmate, and me. We were all gathered around a large, rectangular table.
I kept trying to interject into the discussion, but couldn't get a word in edgewise. I kept stuttering and stammering. "But, but," but no one would yield. They just kept talking over me.
Loitering in the background was a woman. She was slender with blondish hair. She was someone I knew well for a long time and have a fond affection for. The time expired for the panel discussion, without me being able to make a single point to the panel or the wider audience and I was frustrated. As the panelist, including me, were getting ready to leave, I walked up to the woman and talked to her.
I was saying goodbye and knew it would be a long time before we would see each other again. I gave her a big hug and started to get choked up. I made some reference to parting ways again. Obviously we had been separated before and were about to be torn apart again.
As I am making my way out the door with the other panelists, the discussion continues, and finally I am able to interject a sentence or two into the conversation, but still keep getting interrupted, unable to complete a thought.
That's when I woke up. One of the ear buds for my iPod was still in my ear and iPod was still playing one of the Podcasts I subscribe too, Top of the Pods, which is based in England. I fell asleep listening to one podcast earlier in the night and slept through several others before waking from my dream.
Even in my groggy, sleep deprived state I realized the topic being discussed on the podcast was the very discussion I had been dreaming about.
I put the iPod on the nightstand, plugged it into the charger and tried to go back to sleep. My mind involuntarily started reviewing the dream.
I realized then that I didn't know who the woman in my dream was. I knew who she was when I was dreaming. Or at least I thought I did. But for the life of me I couldn't place her when I was awake. Her name was on the tip of my tongue. I could just about call her face to mind. But then the imagery and the name got even hazier, fading and withdrawing from my conscious mind. I realized it was lost, forever.
And I couldn't go back to sleep. I was left with this vaguely unsettled feeling, frustrated and disappointed by the lost friend (or was she a lover?) and the lost sleep. So, now here I sit at my computer realizing that my alarm clock will start to buzz at any moment.
It's going to be one of those days.
Technorati tags: Dreams
Insomnia
Podcasts
Top of the Pods
The dream wasn't bad, or what I would classify as a nightmare, but it was unsettling for some strange reason.
I was in a large room in London, participating in a panel discussion that was being either broadcast online or recorded for online distribution. I was on the panel with a couple of podcasters, some other dude who resembled a high school classmate, and me. We were all gathered around a large, rectangular table.
I kept trying to interject into the discussion, but couldn't get a word in edgewise. I kept stuttering and stammering. "But, but," but no one would yield. They just kept talking over me.
Loitering in the background was a woman. She was slender with blondish hair. She was someone I knew well for a long time and have a fond affection for. The time expired for the panel discussion, without me being able to make a single point to the panel or the wider audience and I was frustrated. As the panelist, including me, were getting ready to leave, I walked up to the woman and talked to her.
I was saying goodbye and knew it would be a long time before we would see each other again. I gave her a big hug and started to get choked up. I made some reference to parting ways again. Obviously we had been separated before and were about to be torn apart again.
As I am making my way out the door with the other panelists, the discussion continues, and finally I am able to interject a sentence or two into the conversation, but still keep getting interrupted, unable to complete a thought.
That's when I woke up. One of the ear buds for my iPod was still in my ear and iPod was still playing one of the Podcasts I subscribe too, Top of the Pods, which is based in England. I fell asleep listening to one podcast earlier in the night and slept through several others before waking from my dream.
Even in my groggy, sleep deprived state I realized the topic being discussed on the podcast was the very discussion I had been dreaming about.
I put the iPod on the nightstand, plugged it into the charger and tried to go back to sleep. My mind involuntarily started reviewing the dream.
I realized then that I didn't know who the woman in my dream was. I knew who she was when I was dreaming. Or at least I thought I did. But for the life of me I couldn't place her when I was awake. Her name was on the tip of my tongue. I could just about call her face to mind. But then the imagery and the name got even hazier, fading and withdrawing from my conscious mind. I realized it was lost, forever.
And I couldn't go back to sleep. I was left with this vaguely unsettled feeling, frustrated and disappointed by the lost friend (or was she a lover?) and the lost sleep. So, now here I sit at my computer realizing that my alarm clock will start to buzz at any moment.
It's going to be one of those days.
Technorati tags: Dreams
Insomnia
Podcasts
Top of the Pods
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Imprisoned by insomnia
The insomnia is back. If it ever really went away.
I was so tired earlier this evening, I was about dozing off while talking to a friend online. OK, so perhaps putting a headset on and laying down on the couch may not have been the best idea. At one point she even gave up on me and was just going to go about her business and let me sleep.
So, I took the hint and said my goodbyes. I didn't even bother to close my IM connection. I just took off the headphones and closed my eyes. I woke up about two hours later.
So, after doing a few little chores, I decided to head off to bed. That was sometime around midnight. Now, here it is, more than three and a half hours later, and I'm wide awake.
You'd think with all this not sleeping, there would plenty of time for making posts on here. However, I've been employing the strategy that if I'm in bed and preparing to sleep maybe I will actually fall asleep and get more rest than if I sit up half the night on the computer until I reach the point of exhaustion, which used to be one of my more frequently employed insomnia strategies. Of course that strategy worked fine when I was working a swing shift and could fall asleep at 5 a.m. and still get 8 hours sleep before getting up to go to work. That doesn't work so well on a day shift.
Is it still insomnia if you get 6-8 hours sleep?
I guess I can't complain too much. I've certainly endured more fucked up sleep patterns. Some years back, I was working a job where I had to be at work even earlier than I do now. And in that job I was putting in a ton of hours. My days went, generally like this. Go to work about 7 a.m. Work til about noon. Go home for lunch. Take a nap for about half an hour to an hour. Go back to work until about 6. Go home for dinner. Take a nap for about an hour. Go back to work until about midnight. Go home and goof around on the computer until about 2 or 3 a.m. Try to sleep until the alarm clocks (I think I needed about 3 to get me out of bed at that time) went off. Jump through the shower and head to work to start the whole cycle over again.
It was fucked up, to put it mildly. Not that anyone set those hours for me. I was just Mr. Insane Manager, wanting to kick ass, take names and conquer my little corner of the world. Fortunately, after about a year and half of that I realized that schedule would either kill me, or I would lose any grip with reality and turn homicidal on someone else's ass. I already had a couple of potential victims in mind. Also fortunately about that same time, a colleague told me about a job opening in another city. I applied and got the job before killing myself or someone else.
At least I haven't started picking out victim here. Yet. But if I ever do, and if I got arrested, whether found criminally liable or mentally incapacitated, odds are good that I could still stay here in Salem, at either the state penitentiary or state hospital.
But I'm not sure if that's really a good thing or not. I can't get my family to come visit me in my apartment in Salem, what do you think the odds would be they'd make the trip to my cell?
It might improve the love life though.
OK, yea, sleep deprivation does some fucked up shit to the brain.
I think for now I'll try to maintain my place among the unincarcerated psychotics in Salem.
Insomnia
I was so tired earlier this evening, I was about dozing off while talking to a friend online. OK, so perhaps putting a headset on and laying down on the couch may not have been the best idea. At one point she even gave up on me and was just going to go about her business and let me sleep.
So, I took the hint and said my goodbyes. I didn't even bother to close my IM connection. I just took off the headphones and closed my eyes. I woke up about two hours later.
So, after doing a few little chores, I decided to head off to bed. That was sometime around midnight. Now, here it is, more than three and a half hours later, and I'm wide awake.
You'd think with all this not sleeping, there would plenty of time for making posts on here. However, I've been employing the strategy that if I'm in bed and preparing to sleep maybe I will actually fall asleep and get more rest than if I sit up half the night on the computer until I reach the point of exhaustion, which used to be one of my more frequently employed insomnia strategies. Of course that strategy worked fine when I was working a swing shift and could fall asleep at 5 a.m. and still get 8 hours sleep before getting up to go to work. That doesn't work so well on a day shift.
Is it still insomnia if you get 6-8 hours sleep?
I guess I can't complain too much. I've certainly endured more fucked up sleep patterns. Some years back, I was working a job where I had to be at work even earlier than I do now. And in that job I was putting in a ton of hours. My days went, generally like this. Go to work about 7 a.m. Work til about noon. Go home for lunch. Take a nap for about half an hour to an hour. Go back to work until about 6. Go home for dinner. Take a nap for about an hour. Go back to work until about midnight. Go home and goof around on the computer until about 2 or 3 a.m. Try to sleep until the alarm clocks (I think I needed about 3 to get me out of bed at that time) went off. Jump through the shower and head to work to start the whole cycle over again.
It was fucked up, to put it mildly. Not that anyone set those hours for me. I was just Mr. Insane Manager, wanting to kick ass, take names and conquer my little corner of the world. Fortunately, after about a year and half of that I realized that schedule would either kill me, or I would lose any grip with reality and turn homicidal on someone else's ass. I already had a couple of potential victims in mind. Also fortunately about that same time, a colleague told me about a job opening in another city. I applied and got the job before killing myself or someone else.
At least I haven't started picking out victim here. Yet. But if I ever do, and if I got arrested, whether found criminally liable or mentally incapacitated, odds are good that I could still stay here in Salem, at either the state penitentiary or state hospital.
But I'm not sure if that's really a good thing or not. I can't get my family to come visit me in my apartment in Salem, what do you think the odds would be they'd make the trip to my cell?
It might improve the love life though.
OK, yea, sleep deprivation does some fucked up shit to the brain.
I think for now I'll try to maintain my place among the unincarcerated psychotics in Salem.
Insomnia
Monday, April 24, 2006
Nocturnal emission
So last night I was feeling good. I made a blog post (which hasn't happened since well before the crucifixion and resurrection of Christ) and went to bed relatively early. I say relatively, because over the previous couple of nights I'd actually been awake at and after sunrise. So, I fell asleep relatively early, was snoozing away... .
And that's when it happened.
The nose bleed.
I get periodic nose bleeds. I've never plotted them out on a calendar, or compared them to phases of the moon or anything, but there are "times" when I get them. Changes in weather, like a warming or cooling. Spring and fall are notorious for such events and the visits of my nasally hemorrhagic "friend." If I get a cold, in never fails, as soon as the sneezing and sniffles start getting under control, that tell-tale feeling of a runny nose will, sooner or later, run red.
Periods of stress sock me a stiff one in the proboscis too.
So, this was probably a case of the climatic arrival of spring and pulling a couple of all nighters to watch bad cable TV and my attempt to rule the electronic baseball empire on EA Sports' MVP Baseball game.
So, at 3:30 in the morning, I'm awakened from a sound sleep by the feeling of warm, thick liquid dripping inside my right nostril heading directly for my freshly changed bedsheets.
So I sprang out of bed, got the bleeding stopped, checked the sheets for bloody nasal discharge and crawled back into bed.
And then I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't sleep by 4 a.m., or 4:30 a.m. or 5 a.m.
By 6 o'clock, I decided I might as well get out of bed, because if I did manage to fall asleep, the alarm clock would not wake me it. The irony is not lost on me that my brain can ignore a blaring alarm clock when it is in the midst of slumber after days or weeks of sleep deprivation, but the first sign of a runny, or bleeding nose, while dead asleep can send my hand flying toward my face as my feet scramble for the floor and toward the bathroom, dragging my still sleeping body behind it.
The blood vessels, and the mind, work in truly warped ways in the middle of the night.
Now it is time to see if I can keep the restless mind at bay the little capillaries in my nose from popping a cork for the night. We'll see how it goes. There must be a better way to deal with this stuff. And, in the spirit of the previous post, getting laid probably wouldn't hurt the insomnia or the nose bleeds either. That's not to say it would help either, but it's worth a shot.
Spring
Insomnia
Nose bleeds
And that's when it happened.
The nose bleed.
I get periodic nose bleeds. I've never plotted them out on a calendar, or compared them to phases of the moon or anything, but there are "times" when I get them. Changes in weather, like a warming or cooling. Spring and fall are notorious for such events and the visits of my nasally hemorrhagic "friend." If I get a cold, in never fails, as soon as the sneezing and sniffles start getting under control, that tell-tale feeling of a runny nose will, sooner or later, run red.
Periods of stress sock me a stiff one in the proboscis too.
So, this was probably a case of the climatic arrival of spring and pulling a couple of all nighters to watch bad cable TV and my attempt to rule the electronic baseball empire on EA Sports' MVP Baseball game.
So, at 3:30 in the morning, I'm awakened from a sound sleep by the feeling of warm, thick liquid dripping inside my right nostril heading directly for my freshly changed bedsheets.
So I sprang out of bed, got the bleeding stopped, checked the sheets for bloody nasal discharge and crawled back into bed.
And then I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't sleep by 4 a.m., or 4:30 a.m. or 5 a.m.
By 6 o'clock, I decided I might as well get out of bed, because if I did manage to fall asleep, the alarm clock would not wake me it. The irony is not lost on me that my brain can ignore a blaring alarm clock when it is in the midst of slumber after days or weeks of sleep deprivation, but the first sign of a runny, or bleeding nose, while dead asleep can send my hand flying toward my face as my feet scramble for the floor and toward the bathroom, dragging my still sleeping body behind it.
The blood vessels, and the mind, work in truly warped ways in the middle of the night.
Now it is time to see if I can keep the restless mind at bay the little capillaries in my nose from popping a cork for the night. We'll see how it goes. There must be a better way to deal with this stuff. And, in the spirit of the previous post, getting laid probably wouldn't hurt the insomnia or the nose bleeds either. That's not to say it would help either, but it's worth a shot.
Spring
Insomnia
Nose bleeds
Sunday, April 02, 2006
Can I sleep while you drive?
I should be sleeping right now.
It's been a busy weekend and I'm exhausted. I should be in bed. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in so long, I'm losing track. The reason I haven't been sleeping is, well, I'm not sure, other than I've had a lot of stuff on my mind. And the reason I'm not sleeping now is that I still have a lot of stuff on my mind, and a load of clothes in the drier.
I don't know where to begin, so I'll begin with how the day has ended. A short while ago I sat on the couch, watching the end of "Grey's Anatomy" with tears streaming down my face. I'm tempted to say I'm not sure why I was crying, but that's a lie. There were a couple of story lines on the show dealing with parenthood and they got to me. In one a mother, dying of cancer, struggles with what to tell or not tell her daughter about her illness and about life. Those little things that parents so want to tell their children. Those nuggets of wisdom that sound so profound in the head but seem to sound so flat when spoken out loud.
That story line got to me because, well, my daughter turned 15 today and I have spent her lifetime trying to figure out what to say to her about so many things, to impart love and wisdom, and fall so flat when we are side by side or face to face.
The other story line is about a man who is the father of Dr. Grey, the title character on the show. The man so wants to reach out to his daughter, but doesn't know how. He left the family when she was young and doesn't know how to rekindle a long dormant relationship.
Fortunately, my daughter and I don't have a dormant relationship. It is certainly much less than I want it to be and is perhaps more than she wants as a teenage girl wanting to fit in and be cool with her friends.
I spend part of Saturday evening with my daughter and her family at a birthday party for her. I relish any time with her, like a dog begging for scraps. I find myself watching her, staring at her, trying to absorb the essence of who and what she is as a young woman. When I left there was a sense of emptiness. It's a feeling I've come to know well over the years, but never get used to. The visits are shorter now in duration but more frequent than they used to be. So that emptiness, the goodbye vacuum, is a much more frequent part of my life. And yet, not frequent enough. And I feel guilty for feeling sad after visits with her. I should be happy that I'm part of her life, right? That her family includes me in activities. That when I say I love her she responds in kind, the words not even stumbling in her throat or tripping over her teeth. Those are all good things, right?
It's been a weekend of nostalgia, remembrance and regret, lots of driving and little snatches of time with family and old friends.
Today, I woke up early, after getting home late after my daughter's birthday party, losing an hour's sleep to the time change, and drove nearly 4 hours to attend another gathering for a friend who is about ready to ship off to a war zone. Along the way, I called to wish another friend a happy birthday and learned from the ticker on CNN that a storm was bearing down on my lady friend Brat's hometown, again.
No matter where I was this weekend, I felt out of place. Like I was watching it all as if it was a performance on stage, somehow separate from it all and numb. Not because I felt nothing but because I felt too much and the nerve endings and synapses could no longer process the sensations.
And then, after talking to Brat online after her latest adventure and sitting quietly on the couch, listening to the drier tumble I watch a fictionalized account of other people's lives and the emotion overflowed, spilling out the corners of my eyes, streaming over my cheeks and pouring onto my shirt, like the waterfalls I passed today while driving through the Columbia River Gorge. Some picture postcard that would make.
It was a good day. A good weekend. It was too much and not enough. So many epiphanies on the road, listening to classic rock and seeing one of the most beautiful corners of the world. Seeing and talking to so many people I love and care about and worry about and miss in such a short span of time.
I shouldn't go so long without talking to family, friends and people who are important to me. I shouldn't go so many days without decent sleep. I shouldn't go so many days without writing here. I shouldn't drive 500 miles in a day. I shouldn't listen to so much old music on a trip home.
I really should be sleeping right now.
Parenthood
Insomnia
Family
Friends
Road trip
It's been a busy weekend and I'm exhausted. I should be in bed. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in so long, I'm losing track. The reason I haven't been sleeping is, well, I'm not sure, other than I've had a lot of stuff on my mind. And the reason I'm not sleeping now is that I still have a lot of stuff on my mind, and a load of clothes in the drier.
I don't know where to begin, so I'll begin with how the day has ended. A short while ago I sat on the couch, watching the end of "Grey's Anatomy" with tears streaming down my face. I'm tempted to say I'm not sure why I was crying, but that's a lie. There were a couple of story lines on the show dealing with parenthood and they got to me. In one a mother, dying of cancer, struggles with what to tell or not tell her daughter about her illness and about life. Those little things that parents so want to tell their children. Those nuggets of wisdom that sound so profound in the head but seem to sound so flat when spoken out loud.
That story line got to me because, well, my daughter turned 15 today and I have spent her lifetime trying to figure out what to say to her about so many things, to impart love and wisdom, and fall so flat when we are side by side or face to face.
The other story line is about a man who is the father of Dr. Grey, the title character on the show. The man so wants to reach out to his daughter, but doesn't know how. He left the family when she was young and doesn't know how to rekindle a long dormant relationship.
Fortunately, my daughter and I don't have a dormant relationship. It is certainly much less than I want it to be and is perhaps more than she wants as a teenage girl wanting to fit in and be cool with her friends.
I spend part of Saturday evening with my daughter and her family at a birthday party for her. I relish any time with her, like a dog begging for scraps. I find myself watching her, staring at her, trying to absorb the essence of who and what she is as a young woman. When I left there was a sense of emptiness. It's a feeling I've come to know well over the years, but never get used to. The visits are shorter now in duration but more frequent than they used to be. So that emptiness, the goodbye vacuum, is a much more frequent part of my life. And yet, not frequent enough. And I feel guilty for feeling sad after visits with her. I should be happy that I'm part of her life, right? That her family includes me in activities. That when I say I love her she responds in kind, the words not even stumbling in her throat or tripping over her teeth. Those are all good things, right?
It's been a weekend of nostalgia, remembrance and regret, lots of driving and little snatches of time with family and old friends.
Today, I woke up early, after getting home late after my daughter's birthday party, losing an hour's sleep to the time change, and drove nearly 4 hours to attend another gathering for a friend who is about ready to ship off to a war zone. Along the way, I called to wish another friend a happy birthday and learned from the ticker on CNN that a storm was bearing down on my lady friend Brat's hometown, again.
No matter where I was this weekend, I felt out of place. Like I was watching it all as if it was a performance on stage, somehow separate from it all and numb. Not because I felt nothing but because I felt too much and the nerve endings and synapses could no longer process the sensations.
And then, after talking to Brat online after her latest adventure and sitting quietly on the couch, listening to the drier tumble I watch a fictionalized account of other people's lives and the emotion overflowed, spilling out the corners of my eyes, streaming over my cheeks and pouring onto my shirt, like the waterfalls I passed today while driving through the Columbia River Gorge. Some picture postcard that would make.
It was a good day. A good weekend. It was too much and not enough. So many epiphanies on the road, listening to classic rock and seeing one of the most beautiful corners of the world. Seeing and talking to so many people I love and care about and worry about and miss in such a short span of time.
I shouldn't go so long without talking to family, friends and people who are important to me. I shouldn't go so many days without decent sleep. I shouldn't go so many days without writing here. I shouldn't drive 500 miles in a day. I shouldn't listen to so much old music on a trip home.
I really should be sleeping right now.
Parenthood
Insomnia
Family
Friends
Road trip
Monday, November 14, 2005
Bad to be good
I tried to do the right thing. I went to bed early and fell asleep fairly quickly. But for some reason I kept waking up. It was like I couldn't get comfortable in my sleep. I woke up again about 1:30 a.m. and was having trouble falling back to sleep.
I tossed and turned for well over an hour before somehow mercifully falling back to sleep.
I tried to do the right thing, getting a good, restful start to the work week, but here I am on Monday morning fighting to jumpstart my brain and get the day rolling.
But all I really want to do is crawl back under the covers and sleep the morning away.
So much for trying to be good.
Insomnia
I tossed and turned for well over an hour before somehow mercifully falling back to sleep.
I tried to do the right thing, getting a good, restful start to the work week, but here I am on Monday morning fighting to jumpstart my brain and get the day rolling.
But all I really want to do is crawl back under the covers and sleep the morning away.
So much for trying to be good.
Insomnia
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Games insomniacs play
You'd think someone who hates mornings as much as I do would learn to go to bed earlier, but no. Not me. My cure for a rough morning yesterday? Stay up even later last night.
You'd think the least I could do was write a decent blog post with those extra hours in my day. But no, I didn't do that either.
So, here I am struggling to keep my eyes open, and here you are, reading a pathetic post. Can I blame the World Series going into extra innings?
You'd think the least I could do was write a decent blog post with those extra hours in my day. But no, I didn't do that either.
So, here I am struggling to keep my eyes open, and here you are, reading a pathetic post. Can I blame the World Series going into extra innings?
Well, at least now I know how much my blog is worth (see bottom right of the page). Anyone want a used blog? I'm willing to give a discount.
InsomniaThursday, October 13, 2005
This might be a clue
A sign you might not be getting enough sleep: Wearing the wrong socks.
At some point in the day yesterday I looked down to realize I was wearing green socks. Ordinarily I don't wear green socks with my black slacks, but I sure did yesterday.
For some reason while getting dressed yesterday my brain was convinced I was wearing my green slacks yesterday, in spite of the very black pant-like-material covering my legs at the time I was putting the socks on my feet. I vaguely remember thinking I should wear the green slacks, but I talked myself out of it and went with the black. The green slacks have a hole in the pocket. I hate that. So, black it was.
But apparently I forgot to tell my brain, or my eyeballs of the last-minute switch, and neither of them were away yet yesterday morning, in spite of the shower.
When they woke up later, they were a bit shocked to see green socks poking out from under the cuffs of the black slacks.
I'm not one of those people that subscribes to the fashion "rule" that your socks should match your shirt. I think the socks should match the slacks. I like my shirts to contrast with the slacks, and I don't want to call that much attention to my socks, so I match my socks to the slacks. But yesterday the socks didn't match the shirt either. The shirt was a light brown/beige, again picked to go with the green slacks. The shirt didn't get the memo about the wardrobe change either, but at least it didn't look too bad with the slacks.
Good think I didn't wear a tie. Lord knows what I would have grabbed off the tie rack.
So, yea, the insomnia is still with me. Last night I decided if I'm going to be up late I might as well have some fun with it, so I went out for drinks after the Angels were robbed of victory in the Major League playoffs.
So this morning, I'm tired and a bit hung over. I hope someone is awake enough to pick out clothes this morning. Or this could get ugly.
Insomnia
Fashion
Hang overs
At some point in the day yesterday I looked down to realize I was wearing green socks. Ordinarily I don't wear green socks with my black slacks, but I sure did yesterday.
For some reason while getting dressed yesterday my brain was convinced I was wearing my green slacks yesterday, in spite of the very black pant-like-material covering my legs at the time I was putting the socks on my feet. I vaguely remember thinking I should wear the green slacks, but I talked myself out of it and went with the black. The green slacks have a hole in the pocket. I hate that. So, black it was.
But apparently I forgot to tell my brain, or my eyeballs of the last-minute switch, and neither of them were away yet yesterday morning, in spite of the shower.
When they woke up later, they were a bit shocked to see green socks poking out from under the cuffs of the black slacks.
I'm not one of those people that subscribes to the fashion "rule" that your socks should match your shirt. I think the socks should match the slacks. I like my shirts to contrast with the slacks, and I don't want to call that much attention to my socks, so I match my socks to the slacks. But yesterday the socks didn't match the shirt either. The shirt was a light brown/beige, again picked to go with the green slacks. The shirt didn't get the memo about the wardrobe change either, but at least it didn't look too bad with the slacks.
Good think I didn't wear a tie. Lord knows what I would have grabbed off the tie rack.
So, yea, the insomnia is still with me. Last night I decided if I'm going to be up late I might as well have some fun with it, so I went out for drinks after the Angels were robbed of victory in the Major League playoffs.
So this morning, I'm tired and a bit hung over. I hope someone is awake enough to pick out clothes this morning. Or this could get ugly.
Insomnia
Fashion
Hang overs
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
Sleepless in Salem
At 10 p.m., I could barely keep my eyes open. It wouldn't have taken much to fall a sleep. Closing the they and a deep sigh and I could have been out like a light.
Now, it's past midnight and I'm still awake. Tired, but wide away.
The best cure I've found for insomnia is working a swing shift. The best sleep I've had of my life was when I wasn't reporting to work until 2 p.m. Sure, I still had nights were I had trouble falling asleep. Oftentimes I would stay up until I was suffering from such shear exhausting that the best way I could describe my bedtime ritual was collapsing, rather than going to bed.
I could be up until 3 a.m., get 8 hours sleep and still have an hour to get ready to work. And I'm one of those people who really needs 8 hours sleep. And in an ideal world, 10 hours would be fantastic.
Now, if I really wanted to get 8 hours sleep, I would need to be in bed by 10:30. Who goes to bed at 10:30? Midwesterners, maybe, where the late night news comes on at 10. But not Left Coasters. Not young, hip guess like me.
OK, so maybe I'm not so young. And maybe I was never hip.
I am, however, a chronic night owl.
Hi, my name is G-man and I'm an insomniac.
Is there a 12-step program for that?
Well, at least there is a West Wing marathon on Bravo.
Insomnia
Now, it's past midnight and I'm still awake. Tired, but wide away.
The best cure I've found for insomnia is working a swing shift. The best sleep I've had of my life was when I wasn't reporting to work until 2 p.m. Sure, I still had nights were I had trouble falling asleep. Oftentimes I would stay up until I was suffering from such shear exhausting that the best way I could describe my bedtime ritual was collapsing, rather than going to bed.
I could be up until 3 a.m., get 8 hours sleep and still have an hour to get ready to work. And I'm one of those people who really needs 8 hours sleep. And in an ideal world, 10 hours would be fantastic.
Now, if I really wanted to get 8 hours sleep, I would need to be in bed by 10:30. Who goes to bed at 10:30? Midwesterners, maybe, where the late night news comes on at 10. But not Left Coasters. Not young, hip guess like me.
OK, so maybe I'm not so young. And maybe I was never hip.
I am, however, a chronic night owl.
Hi, my name is G-man and I'm an insomniac.
Is there a 12-step program for that?
Well, at least there is a West Wing marathon on Bravo.
Insomnia
Friday, September 02, 2005
Basic necessities
So, when you can't sleep and you can't blog, what do you do? In my case I watch cable TV and play Monopoly at Games.com.
I was thinking a lot today about the victims of Hurricane Katrina. Things sound like they are getting pretty desperate in the gulf region devastated by the hurricane, particularly in New Orleans.
I have no desire to belittle the tragedy, so please, I hope no one takes it that way. But I am stunned by how the world for the survivors of that tragedy has changes in just a few days. All our modern conveniences don't mean shit right now. Fuck cell phones and pagers and computers and DVD players and cable TV and, well, frankly anything that runs on electricity or needs gasoline to operate. In the blink of an eye the clock has rolled back more than a century in time. It is Darwinian survival of the fittest.
People who survived the storm are dying in the streets and in attics and in rescue shelters. Our society has gotten so soft that we can't get by without air conditioning and refrigeration and electricity. Live is prolonged by modern science, medicine and other conveniences that we have all come to take for granted. I'm not sure I could survive in the post apocalyptic world the unfortunate citizens of New Orleans and other Gulf communities now find themselves in.
Fuck the ATM, people need to know how to hunt and gather and find water and shelter in a place where all such things are in short supply and mobs rule the streets.
In a strange way, I admire the people who are doing the unthinkable just to survive another day. God bless those people and may the cavalry arrive to carry them to safety as quickly and efficiently as possible.
It was not so long ago that I had never been east of the Mississippi River. But in the last few years I had the great fortune to visit Georgia, Tennessee and Florida and meet some wonderful people. I have also had several friend and coworkers from my last few jobs relocate to jobs in Florida, Alabama, Mississippi and the Gulf region.
For the last few years the threat and reality of hurricanes has meant much more to me than the ever have earlier in my life, in no small part because I have friends who now live in harm's way each hurricane season. And the hurricane seasons of last year and this year have been so frightening and devastating.
My heart aches for my friends, and those who nearly became part of my family, and the talented former coworkers and colleagues who are far too close to this devastation. I miss them all and my heart aches for them, their families, and for those in and around the most severe devastation. May you find the comforts we all take for granted very soon: the comfort of friends and loved ones, a safe place to sleep, food to eat and water to drink.
And may the rest of us never take for granted those simple things, usually so easy to find, which can mean life or death when they are not so readily at hand.
Hurricane Katrina
Insomnia
I was thinking a lot today about the victims of Hurricane Katrina. Things sound like they are getting pretty desperate in the gulf region devastated by the hurricane, particularly in New Orleans.
I have no desire to belittle the tragedy, so please, I hope no one takes it that way. But I am stunned by how the world for the survivors of that tragedy has changes in just a few days. All our modern conveniences don't mean shit right now. Fuck cell phones and pagers and computers and DVD players and cable TV and, well, frankly anything that runs on electricity or needs gasoline to operate. In the blink of an eye the clock has rolled back more than a century in time. It is Darwinian survival of the fittest.
People who survived the storm are dying in the streets and in attics and in rescue shelters. Our society has gotten so soft that we can't get by without air conditioning and refrigeration and electricity. Live is prolonged by modern science, medicine and other conveniences that we have all come to take for granted. I'm not sure I could survive in the post apocalyptic world the unfortunate citizens of New Orleans and other Gulf communities now find themselves in.
Fuck the ATM, people need to know how to hunt and gather and find water and shelter in a place where all such things are in short supply and mobs rule the streets.
In a strange way, I admire the people who are doing the unthinkable just to survive another day. God bless those people and may the cavalry arrive to carry them to safety as quickly and efficiently as possible.
It was not so long ago that I had never been east of the Mississippi River. But in the last few years I had the great fortune to visit Georgia, Tennessee and Florida and meet some wonderful people. I have also had several friend and coworkers from my last few jobs relocate to jobs in Florida, Alabama, Mississippi and the Gulf region.
For the last few years the threat and reality of hurricanes has meant much more to me than the ever have earlier in my life, in no small part because I have friends who now live in harm's way each hurricane season. And the hurricane seasons of last year and this year have been so frightening and devastating.
My heart aches for my friends, and those who nearly became part of my family, and the talented former coworkers and colleagues who are far too close to this devastation. I miss them all and my heart aches for them, their families, and for those in and around the most severe devastation. May you find the comforts we all take for granted very soon: the comfort of friends and loved ones, a safe place to sleep, food to eat and water to drink.
And may the rest of us never take for granted those simple things, usually so easy to find, which can mean life or death when they are not so readily at hand.
Hurricane Katrina
Insomnia
Monday, April 25, 2005
I thought I had it beat
I thought I was on a roll. I though I had that whole sleepless issue whipped. But for some reason, last night I couldn't sleep. I tried going to bed early, after dozing off on the couch. But as soon as I was in bed, boom, wide awake.
The mind is a funny thing. It doesn't just turn off like a light switch, as often as I've tried to make it do just that. I finally fell asleep around sunrise. Now it's off to get ready for work and start the work week routine all over again.
Ugh.
That-non-sleep-word-which-can-no-longer-be-typed
The mind is a funny thing. It doesn't just turn off like a light switch, as often as I've tried to make it do just that. I finally fell asleep around sunrise. Now it's off to get ready for work and start the work week routine all over again.
Ugh.
That-non-sleep-word-which-can-no-longer-be-typed
Tuesday, April 19, 2005
Be careful what you blog about
OK, so I am going to try giving this sleep thing a try early tonight. Because I don't want to make many more blog posts about i-n-s-o-m-n-i-a, because it apparently can make your blog a target of blog-commenting spammers trying to sell sleep medication (or not trying to sell it, but including links to places where you can buy it anyway). Yea, it was confusing.
So, I'm going to try to get some shut eye, maybe trying out some of the other tips, sans drugs, suggested here. Well, after I remove the spam comment from the previous post. (And yes, I realize that by removing the comment, the comment I made about the comment will make no sense. Them's the breaks folks. The hazards of sleep-depriving blogging.
Don't worry, if the sleep thing doesn't work, I'll be back, to either read more blogs, or make more posts. OK, maybe I'll be checking out porn. But that's our secret, right people?
So, I'm going to try to get some shut eye, maybe trying out some of the other tips, sans drugs, suggested here. Well, after I remove the spam comment from the previous post. (And yes, I realize that by removing the comment, the comment I made about the comment will make no sense. Them's the breaks folks. The hazards of sleep-depriving blogging.
Don't worry, if the sleep thing doesn't work, I'll be back, to either read more blogs, or make more posts. OK, maybe I'll be checking out porn. But that's our secret, right people?
Monday, April 18, 2005
Elusive sleep
My body clock is all out of whack. I can't seem to sleep at all at night. Didn't fall asleep until nearly 7 a.m. today. And now, I've got to go to work. Ugh! Fortunately, I don't have a job that requires me to go to work at 9 a.m. But still, I'm tired and lethargic. But watch, when I get home tonight around midnight or so, I'll be wide awake.
Maybe it was just too warm in here last night. Maybe I should try closing the windows and turning on the air conditioning to cool the place down. But I don't need to start paying sky high electric bills in April.
I hope I can get out of this pattern soon.
Insomnia
Maybe it was just too warm in here last night. Maybe I should try closing the windows and turning on the air conditioning to cool the place down. But I don't need to start paying sky high electric bills in April.
I hope I can get out of this pattern soon.
Insomnia
Monday, March 07, 2005
Are you sleeping Brother John?
Something is wrong.
Insomnia
Weather
Palm Springs
It's barely 11 p.m. and I am tired. Ready to go to bed and crash tired. OK, maybe that's because I was up at an ungodly early hour from me and at work by about 9 a.m., when I normally don't go to work until 2 p.m.
My body is a bit out of wack. I tried going to bed early last night. My mind knew I had to be up early today. But my body was having none of it?
Body: Hey, what's this going to bed at midnight stuff? We never go to bed at midnight. Sure, lie down if you want to but we aren't sleepy.
(an hour later)
Body: Yep, it's 1 a.m, but still not tired. Don't tell us you have to be up in 7 hours. It's not bedtime yet. Bedtime is later. Much later
(another hour later)
Body: Neener, neener, neener, we're not tired. It's the shank of the evening. It's time to be doing something. Just to show you, see us toss, see us turn. Fluff the pillows, flip the TV channels. See, there is stuff to do. This is not sleep time asshole, so you might as well get up.
(2 hours later)
Ah, now this is more like it. Now maybe we will go to sleep. Maybe. We aren't convinced we are tired yet, but hey, give it a short.
When the alarm went off at 8 a.m. it felt like I had just closed my eyes. God I hate that. But fortunately it was a beautiful morning and I was up and going before my body could convince my head that it wasn't quite awake yet.
The reason for the early shift was so I could attend a dinner reception for my alma mater. They do these alumni gatherings once a year to try to tap into all the money from my home state in the Pacific Northwest that has fled to sunnier and warmer Southern California. Apparently, the alumni association hasn't realized that just because I have a Palm Springs address doesn't mean I have money to give them. Well, I gave them a few buck to have dinner and drinks and hang out with some people from my home state for a few hours.
My friend M went with me and we had fun, or she said she did, and I know I did. I sat next to a professor who was one of the guest speakers. He teaches creative writing. I resisted the urge to mention that I have a blog. I'm not sure this counts as creative writing. I'm not even sure it qualifies as writing.
Bad typing maybe.
It's like that old question/joke: Would an infinite number of monkeys typing at random eventually produce the entire works of Shakespeare?
I don't know, but this monkey manages to string a few word together from time to time.
Well, enough monkeying around for now. Tomorrow another sunny spring day is forecast for the Coachella Valley. And if my body is as tired as it thinks it is, I may even be able to fall asleep early enough to get out and play a little before work tomorrow.
BloggingInsomnia
Weather
Palm Springs
A good good morning
I am not a morning person. But here I am, up and almost awake, and getting ready for work early on a Monday morning. Yuck. But at least I get to work a day shift today, and will be getting off early to attend an event this evening. So I am telling myself it will be worth it.
Weather
Palm Springs
And, I suppose it will. After all the sun is shining, and the forecast calls for a high of 82 degrees today.
Oh yes, and it's March people!
It almost makes the morning worthwhile, even though I couldn't fall asleep at a decent hour last night to save my life.
Oh well, the warm sunlight heals all.
MorningWeather
Palm Springs
Monday, January 24, 2005
Stick a fork in me
I haven't make a post here in almost 48 hours. I just couldn't. Early in the weekend I was stressed about work, and I've told myself I am absolutely not going to bitch about work on my blog. I don't need to be Dooced, thank you very much. My creditors would not be amused, and it would be damn hard to do anything at all for my daughter if I were homeless. So, early in the weekend, I was preoccupied, and could find anything else to remove the preoccupation.
But by Sunday I had a new preoccupation. I write a little column for a weekly publication here in the desert, and I just couldn't find the inspiration I needed to get the column written. I usually write it on Sunday. There were many false starts and distraction yesterday, most of them in my head. Finally, last night, I gave up and went to bed early, thinking that a good night's rest would light the fire. But then, as seems to happen anytime I try going to bed before midnight, I couldn't sleep. Dozed off briefly. Had a nice little power nap. Then I was wide awake for hours. I think I finally fell asleep sometime after 4 a.m. And then, I slept through my alarm. Well, I hit the snooze button about a zillion times.
Anyway, I somehow managed to eek out a column. And I'm sure it sucks. And I really don't care. As one of my old bosses used to say, "I'm in love with the doneness of it."
It's done. I'm done. Now it's time to head to work.
Not an auspicious way to kick off the week.
But by Sunday I had a new preoccupation. I write a little column for a weekly publication here in the desert, and I just couldn't find the inspiration I needed to get the column written. I usually write it on Sunday. There were many false starts and distraction yesterday, most of them in my head. Finally, last night, I gave up and went to bed early, thinking that a good night's rest would light the fire. But then, as seems to happen anytime I try going to bed before midnight, I couldn't sleep. Dozed off briefly. Had a nice little power nap. Then I was wide awake for hours. I think I finally fell asleep sometime after 4 a.m. And then, I slept through my alarm. Well, I hit the snooze button about a zillion times.
Anyway, I somehow managed to eek out a column. And I'm sure it sucks. And I really don't care. As one of my old bosses used to say, "I'm in love with the doneness of it."
It's done. I'm done. Now it's time to head to work.
Not an auspicious way to kick off the week.
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