Tossing and turning and I can’t get to sleep. Finally I get up and make for the fridge. Empty, as usual. I’m not really hungry. However I’m thinking that maybe if I had a full belly I’d be sleepy enough to fall asleep.
I walk over to the dirty clothes hamper and pull out my favoritest most comfortable sweat pants and sweat shirt. They have been washed a million times, and the cotton is so soft it almost feels like silk. Socks? Nah.
I stand up and walk over to the front door. It’s cold outside, really cold. Maybe I just need some fresh air in here. After opening the front door I go and open every window in my apartment. Then I grab my industrial strength fan and place it in my doorway, full blast.
I try that for a bit. No, I’m not tired yet. With a sigh I put on my Birks and walk over to the gas station.
“Hi Patti.”
“Hi Tom, what are you doing up so late? Hey… how come you haven’t called me?”
Man, I am sooo not in the mood for this conversation. I briefly contemplate leaving, but I decide against it. I’m sure if I eat I’ll be able to fall asleep.
I grab a gallon of milk and some raisin bran. I try not to make eye contact with Patti as she rings me up.
“Can I come over after my shift?”
l;kasdnfi3adsfn0asd98h3… No, I think to myself.
“Not this time. I have a test in my history class first thing in the morning. I still haven’t slept. I really, really need to get some rest.”
On my way home I stare up at the sky. It’s kinda cloudy still, but clearing up in some places. The moon is half obscured by a dreamy cloud, giving it an eerie glow. On the horizon I think I see lightning flash. In the clear patches I can see a bazillion stars. So many stars up here, in Chico. I’m home.
I eat a bowl of cereal and… hey! I’m starting to feel sleepy! I think…
Nope. I go to bed after my meal and lay there for an hour, staring at the ceiling. Thinking about shit. Always fucking thinking.
Ah hell. I’ll just get up and write. And so I do. And I did.
I’m telling you. A boat in a slip at long beach, and your insomnia will end.
If you can’t afford the slip n’ boat gobble up a few zanex. They taste like shit but i always chew my pills so they get into my bloodsteam faster. Can of Bud is a nice chaser. I am not a three gulp man like you skillet, more like five, but hey now I have something to aspire to. Gotta have goals and set the bar high.
I know a few who suffer from insomnia – or don’t sleep well. Get up every hour on the hour. I can’t relate. I sleep like a fucking log. Makes me wonder though. The people I know who can’t sleep aren’t tired all day. They aren’t less active than I am. In fact, they probably get more done than me because they are awake longer than I am. Sleep is over-rated in my book. I need to do some research on more effecient ways to regenerate the body.
Meditation maybe – no patience – need more self discipline.