Monday, January 27, 2003
As a child years ago
As a child years ago I used to be an insomniac, up till all hours, building fantasy worlds in my little head or watching that Mexican variety show with the guy with the outrageous eyebrows and the volupuous dancing women. Sometime in high school I overcame my wakefulness and sleeping became one of my favorite pasttimes. I became condescending and sanctimonious towards the sleepless: “Ah yes, I’ve been there, what a pity for you, maybe someday you’ll grow out of it and enjoy life with us on the other side...”
Well, I’m back among the ranks of the restless. Four nights running I’ve laid in bed, alert and honed, listening to the dog snore ("mastiff" is latin for “oboe reed in sinus") and watching the hours change on the alarm clock. Typically I do drift off sometime after 3, and the cat jumps on me at around 5 (with the delicay and grace of a roast turkey falling on a freshly-vacuumed carpet); the alarm goes off at 5:30 and I act as if I’ve gotten enough rest to enjoy another productive and exciting day.
But there is a downside to sleep deprivation, I begin to suspect - my sense of humor (yeah that’s what I’m calling it anyway) is thin, my patience has worn out, and I’m not taking very good care of myself. Yet I’m up early, stay up late, and I don’t really slow down much during the day. It’s starting to feel normal, and that’s what scares me. Which is yet another fixation to keep me thinking too much when the lights go out. I’m busier than I’ve been in years at work and at home, so much involved in so many things that I lose track of them.
Maybe the problem here is that I’m thinking too much. I’m learning new software, creating new lifeforms, discovering mysterious biomasses in the cat’s room and learning exciting new ways to break or wear out inanimate objects. Maybe I ought to try sitting still and contemplating the space between my actions, instead of that between my ears. I need to make a little room to get bored. Otherwise I’m going back to Telemundo.
