"All books are either dreams or swords." |
A fitting title for the day. This week and a half of time off hasn't been exactly what I had hoped it would be. I got some reading into the works which has been nice. But my sleep cycle is so fucked that I'm surprised I'm not completely bat shit. I've been popping Melatonin (a natural sleep aid) like they're freaking M&Ms. At best I can sleep a couple hours at a time, and those hours are so crappy that its not even funny. And the funny thing is I try everything to knock myself out. I've tried warm milk, soothing music, chamomile tea, counting sheep, meditating, blacking out my windows to mimic night...you get the picture. Funny thing is almost all writers I know suffer from some sleeping issue. I'm a insomniac like the rest of them. One day I'm going to crash. My body or my brain is just going to burst. Still, my docs don't want to put me on any type of sleeping aid. I'm cool with that. Addiction to sleeping pills is the last thing I need. Although a full night of sleep would be awesome one of these days. But as I sit here typing some sleep would be awesome. My first class of the semester is in a few hours. I'm crashing my first class! A milestone in anyone's academic career. It would be nice to have some sleep under my belt before I do it. Unfortunately, I doubt that it will happen. It is close to eight in the morning and I have yet to capture any shut eye. This is going to be an interesting first experience. In the end it doesn't really amount to any type of hill of beans. Crash or crash, my day of hitting the down below isn't happening today. Possibly tomorrow. Possibly next week. Possibly by the time I'm fifty. No matter what, I'm still kicking. |