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October 22, 2007

Insomnia

It’s 2:30 in the morning. In three hours, I have to get up and go in for what will probably be an eleven-hour day at work. I haven’t been to sleep yet. I’m stuck somewhere between “in a violent rage” and “on the verge of tears”.

Why can’t I sleep? There’s nothing extraordinary on my mind. I wound down before going to bed. I did everything right, and I’m still wide awake, pondering how the only thing that’s going to suck more than tonight for me will be tomorrow morning. Assuming there’s any sleep buffer at all between the two.

I’ve read. I’ve watched TV. I’ve cuddled with Edgar. I’ve counted sheep and tried the couch and the other bed. I’ve also reminded myself how I once swore I’d never have another job where it was all but impossible to call in sick, but that’s another story entirely.

This sucks.

Uptown Boy

How anyone could read this and still think not only that I was employed by Uptown Magazine, but also that I would be in charge of their hiring, is realy beyond me. To coin a phrase: the stupid hurts.

Anyway, after an hour and forty-five minutes of sleep and ten-plus hours of work, I can’t exactly say that I’ve recovered from last night’s insomniac mess, but I’m pretty sure I’ll at least sleep a whole lot better tonight.