INT: BEDROOM, MYTOWN, U.S.A.
10:00 PM -- Alright, I've got my gym clothes ready for tomorrow. Starting up the new exercise regimen. Big plans. Going to get into work a little early. Maybe 8:00 AM or so. Should probably plan to get to bed by midnight at the latest. That's a good seven to eight hours of sleep, and that's more than enough. Think I'll hop on-line, check out a few of the usual suspects, play a little on-line poker, and just veg and decompress before bedtime.
11:00 PM -- Hmmm...should I pop in a DVD movie? Double-click on a documentary off of Netflix streaming? Check out a show on Hulu? Start that book I've been putting off? Naw, not enough time. Need to sleep by midnight.
12:00 AM -- Okay, I'm lying in bed. Relaxed. No distractions. Need to sleep. I am tired after all. A good night of sleep will do me good.
12:32 AM -- Dammit, I'm wide awake. Maybe I'll just check my Gmail, the Live Newsfeed on Facebook, a few newsites, and then log off. Some of the people on the West Coast are just updating their blogs and status entries.
12:45 AM -- Turn off computer. Lie in bed. Glance occasionally at clock.
1:15 AM -- Decide that maybe a glass of water would be helpful. Head downstairs, through living room, into kitchen. Grab a glass of water. Pause in front of the TV, and figure that watching the Daily Show and/or Sportscenter will decompress me even more and finally send me into the arms of the Sandman.
2:00 AM -- Sportscenter -- Los Angeles deep into second showing of same previous night's highlights. Infomercials in full blast mode. There are at least six different ways to blast out my abs in ninety days or less for the low low price of $120 a DVD set (payable in 3 installments of $39.90!). I wonder if I went "full insanity" for sixty days if I could sleep better. Self-loathing and body image issues meeting for product discussion summit in back of brain, but rudely interrupted by skeptical, money-conscious teabagger common sense elements. Turn off TV and head back up stairs. Getting into work at 8:00 AM no longer seeming like that attractive an option.
2:35 AM -- I don't want to turn lights on, so I'll just read on the toilet. Kill two birds with one stone. Knock out a chapter with my flannel sweats at my ankles, even though there's no poop at the end of the reading rainbow. No birds, no proverbial stone. Now slightly more awake than ever. Maybe I should lie down and read. Turn lights on. Furtively glance at clock. It's mocking me now.
3:03 AM -- Re-read same paragraph three times. Switch books. Screw the non-fiction history. Go simpler. Maybe a magazine. Perhaps a graphic novel of sorts. Hmmm...... there we go, something indie and autobiographical. Maybe a recounting of one's first sexual experience, rendered with appropriate angst in black-and-white and hand-lettering, with homoerotic subtext and ominous religious overtones. Looks like there's too many to choose from. Choice requires brain activity. We want to be gearing down from that. Four hours before needing to wake up. Five if you go for regular start time. Turn lights off and try again.
3:28 AM -- The clock hates me. Look at it. Glowing green and racing forward in a sprint. That minute was like twenty seconds at most. Okay, personal vow time. I refuse to look at it anymore. Seeing how late it is just creates more anxiety, and anxiety is keeping me awake. Vicious circle becomes vicious parallelogram. Roll over and put pillow over head.
3:52 AM -- Do people like me? Why must love be so difficult? How will I know when I'm really happy? How will I screw it up? Am I a good parent? Do the Red Sox need a new closer? Why am I asking myself rhetorical questions at almost 4 in the morning? I ignored the clock for as long as I could, but it's just a clock. It has no power over me. I stare at you now in defiance.
4:12 AM -- Hmm.....maybe I can just pull an all-nighter like I used to do all the time in college. No biggie. I used to look down the barrel of sleeplessness on a regular basis, plus during that time make up an entire's semester worth of reading, drink a twelve-pack, and eat a half-dozen donuts while banging my girlfriend. Piece of cake. The body doesn't really need sleep. Sleep is for the weak. Fuck the night. The night is my bitch. Maybe I'll start a computer game of Civilization or Risk, just for shits and giggles. Lights back on.
4:53 AM -- What in god's name was I thinking? I need to get at least a couple of hours of rest or I'm going to be a basket case. Remember that all-nighters were devastating to the body, starting with breath that could curl toenails. Greasy hair, dizziness, head nods, involuntary leg twitches. Basically, the appearance of a meth head, but with a less sunny disposition. Pass. I guess I could go in to work a little bit later. Try to sneak by the boss. Better switch from computer Risk to computer Mahjongg. Ah, those tiles are sooo hypnotic.
5:09 AM -- Fall asleep with glasses on face, lights on and computer screensaver in full effect. A picture says a thousand words. In this case, every sentence would include the word "pathetic."
7:30 AM -- First buzzing of alarm clock. You've got to be fucking kidding me. Zombiefied corpse apparently hits snooze; no memory of same.
7:36 AM -- Second buzzing of alarm clock. Someone must die. The hell with this. Alarm gets switched off.
9:27 AM -- Awake in panic. Late already. Considerably late. Do the Japanese game show version of trying to get ready for work. Attempt to brush teeth with razor. Socks may or may not match. Brain weighs close to 328 pounds.
10:00 PM -- Let's try this again, I've got my gym clothes ready for tomorrow. Starting up the new exercise regimen. Big plans. Going to get into work a little early. Maybe 8:00 AM or so. Should probably plan to get to bed by midnight at the latest. That's a good seven to eight hours of sleep, and that's more than enough. Think I'll hop on-line, check out a few of the usual suspects, play a little on-line poker, and just veg and decompress before bedtime.
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Ouch. That hit pretty close to home.
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