Wednesday, August 30, 2006


I have a strange relationship with sleep. I love sleep. But, like many beloved things, sleep is elusive. I chase it in the night only to be met with indifference. I don't suffer from nightmares (with a few exceptions). I suffer from light sleeping. Very light sleeping. Lighter than a feather on Atkins. Lighter than the depth of the plot in a Deadwood episode or a Michael Chabon novel.

The peace of my night is penetrable. Sometimes it's noises that penetrate - helicopters, slamming car doors, cat panic, dead fruit falling on a tile roof, etc. Other times it's a thought that explodes in the deeper part of my brain and must be worked through at the shallow end, before purging. Often in my wakefulness I see patterns - of numbers, Scrabble tiles, playing cards, and stray singular words - coddling, fissure, sprout, adamant.

Sometimes, the thoughts and patterns and startled state of my imagination keep me up enough that I turn to television to soothe my racing mind. In almost all cases, the 2:30AM lull/roar of the TV is better than what's in my head. Yes, even Carson fucking Daly. But especially Tivo-ed episodes of Colbert and The Office. Next thing I know it's 7:17AM and I have to get to work to begin the cycle of work/life/(little) sleep for another day.

I've listened to suggestions for solutions. Sleep in the bedroom, not the living room. Give up caffeine. Try Valerian root. Exercise. Breathe. Warm bath. Hot shower. Open windows. clsoed windows. Light. Darkness. Cats. Solitude. Many of these things help me get to sleep but none of them help keep me there.

Maybe it's age. Am I now an "older" person, one that does not need as much sleep as the "kids." That could be part of it. But if I don't need as much sleep, I definitely want more than I'm getting.

Okay that's enough bellyaching. I must be an old person. I just said "bellyaching." Goodbye. Lists will commence tomorrow.


h said...

Wow. You really do hate Deadwood.

How can one show be so hated? And by someone who watched Carson Daly, no less?

shouldhavebeengone said...

I have my reasons.

I will keep these reasons hidden away in a secret chamber, in the dark forest of my heart

Andy Gibb said...

if he were to let those reasons out, they might look something like this:

the show's creators should understand that being hard-edged, badassed, historically accurate, and relentlessly dark do not preclude a work of art from being overwrought, cliched, frighteningly contrived, and, to put it succinctly, stupid.

but that's just my opinion, not his -ag

Jason said...

Have you tried going back to sleep? You think Carson Daly's going to reach out and pull your binky up to your chin, tell you a story, and then kiss your little forehead before turning out the light?

About as fucking likely as Al Swearingen sleeping in the wet spot.

I will cease my fucking sarcasm when the derision of Deadwood ceases.

d. chase said...

Swearingen? Swearingen?!?

Tony Soprano pisses Al Swearingen for fucking breakfast!

Jason B. said...

Is that some kind of dig at Al having to pass a kidney stone?

Has Tony Soprano ever passed a fucking kidney stone? He'd probably rely on 20th century medical technology. Pussy.