MAAAAX!?!?! BRING ME MY PILLS! I have been suffering terrible insomnia the past few nights. I wake up at 2 or 3 AM, and the chances of my falling back asleep do not exist. Like everyone, I've got a lot on my mind, and once those damn voices in my head start in on me, there’s no escape. Why are those voices so much louder and more obnoksh in the middle of the night???
First comes the to-do list; the incessant repetition of the infinite catalogue of tasks I need to accomplish and goals I’ve been putting off for hundreds of years:
Usually, I don’t even recall having ever wanted or needed to accomplish half the things on this list that I now can't get out of my friggin' head. (Senate?? Asians??? What the??) But through the haze of my insomnia, I'm positively adamant about them. More so, I become anxious and frustrated that I'm not able to take care of them right away. "I swear," I pout to myself, tossing and turning, "if that damn grocery store or my dentist's office or the U.S. Capitol Building or Asia were open right now, this shit would sooo be getting DONE!" There is such urgency in those late-night voices.
(Of course, by the light of day, that go-getter attitude has completely dissolved, and the idea of even leaving my apartment to buy soy milk becomes a notion too overwhelming to imagine. I pour the expired remains of a bottle of cranberry juice from the 70's over my bowl of cereal and call it a morning. Needless to say, I never make it to Senate, either.)
I sure do talk a lot of shit in the wee hours of the morn, though. By about 4:30AM, I finally tire of my to-do list and my mind wanders beyond my menial chores and onto much bigger issues: The hum of my air conditioner suddenly starts me wondering how safely the unit is installed in my window and worrying that it will fall out and kill one of my neighbors taking out the trash. This triggers an entire internal examination of how often people in this city must tragically fall victim to plummeting air conditioners. I’m now figuring out statistics and doing pie charts in my head. I’m so worked up by this point, that I decide, come morning, I am going to do my part by establishing the first ever HAFACF (Homosexuals Against Fallen Air Conditioners Foundation.) I’ll organize a walk-a-thon... We'll have a bake sale...
(Meanwhile, if someone came to my door right now with a concussion and bloody chunks of my air conditioner sticking out of his head, I’d probably send him to the neighbors’ and return to my US Weekly. But at 4:30AM, I’m a fucking activist.)
Point is, I've noticed that I talk a big game when I'm alone in bed, in the middle of the night. I suppose, subconsciously, it's my way of safely expressing all the pent up nervous energy for all my procrastination at a time when I know I won't be expected to actually do anything about it. Or maybe it means I should stop drinking warm vodka/redbulls before bed. Who can say? I just wish I could maintain that crazy drive and ambition throughout the day. I am working on it. But at least for now my days are free to brush my hair and watch bad TV without worry or care. Senate can wait.
(I'm so tired. I have no idea what I just said. Get the lights on your way out, will ya?)
HIT IT, BABS!