Saturday, August 05, 2006


Saturday notes: The day’s another house of cards and plans let go.

1:30 a.m.I’m awake for the second time since I went to bed. This time there isn’t even the hope that I’ll drift off. Until 5:30, I work on the emerald and sapphire bracelet (above) and then, finally, head back to bed and lose consciousness for three hours. I don’t know if it can be called “sleep” when I have stretches like this. I don’t think I’ve hit the deep stage sleep for over a week now and every sound from outside has become an alarm going off. A Russian alarm.

When I was twenty-something, I bought a windup alarm clock that was made in the USSR – and let me tell you, the Russians must have been serious about timekeeping because that thing emitted a sound that I imagine to be the audio equivalent of cardiac arrest. Comrade get up now or die!

8:30 a.m. - The “or die” part, in my sluggish, slumping state, has become vaguely interesting. I wonder if death is restful. Is there a REM stage? Do you hear car horns, and traffic and people yahooing home drunk and sharing their inebriated joy with the whole world? Are there angels? And if so, do the pesky things have a harp and hymn curfew? Are there barking dogs? Telephones. Naw.

Noon - I give up on the idea of shopping for food because I’d only careen around the Superstore like Night of the Living Dead, buying things I already have and forgetting everything I need. Instead, I listen to a science program on the radio, while experimenting with closed eyes, just to see if I feel at all drifty. I don’t. The program airs a segment on Direct Brain Stimulation as a treatment for Parkinson’s disease, severe depression and anxiety and insomnia. Well, at least I’m not depressed – but apparently the problem is in “Area 25” on your basic brain roadmap and Area 25, people, has forgotten to shut down, it’s partying like it’s 1999 and I am young enough to stand life without sleep. Myself, I’d be happy to call an agent and put it on the market. Cheap brain real estate. Fixer-upper. Needs off-switch.

5:00 p.m.I have two really good email letters and two really good snail mail letters to answer. If I could focus my eyes, I might read. And what am I doing? I am chasing flying bugs with my shop vac. Yessir. That’s what I’m doing. Trying to vacuum up bugs as they fly.

7:00 p.m. - Someone just shoot me.

8 comments:

herhimnbryn said...

Ah the peace of deep, deep sleep! I
understand the awful disjointed feeling that stays with you all day when you're sleep has been interrupted.
If there are angels singing etc when you are about to turn up your toes, I think I would be telling them to sod off!
You could always try rearranging yr furniture prior to going to bed, that might make you so physically tired you would drop off!!:) Hope you sleep well tonight.

Darkmind said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
phlegmfatale said...

Gorgeous bracelet!

Insomnia is a cruel, cruel mistress. She dampens my bathmat more than she has been invited. Bitch!

LJ said...

H - I love the idea of telling angels to "sod off." And oh hahahaha about the furniture! Cripes. Once every six months is all the beating I can take there.

DM - Given the move, I don't wonder you're not sleeping - and I'm sorry to hear it. Seems just when we need the little bit of sanity we've managed to keep, insomnia shows up at the door.

PF - Thanks. Very glam, huh? Now you've got me wondering how I'd personify insomnia. "Bitch" is a good place to start.

chuck said...

Vacuuming bugs on the fly...now that qualifies as SPORT!

Did you keep count?

I will try to match it when next I vacuum.

"Snatch those flies from the sky..."

Anonymous said...

Ambien CR - insomnia begone. Not for every night use but it's worked wonders for me.

P.S. Good blog.

LJ said...

Chuck, darling. It's a disappointing sport. It'll break any sportswoman or sportsman's heart. The bloody flies win.
Instead of getting rid of them, they just increase the speed and dizziness of their insane flight. Or perhaps I wasn't on my game due to lack of sleep. If you have any luck, let me know.

Ambien CR works for lots of people, anonymous! Just try prying it out of the fingers of my ever-so-addiction vigilant doctor!

Cate said...

I adore this necklace. You are so talented.