I gave up going on a date tonight, to sleep. I hope to be sleeping very soon.
This is partly to have energy to run 13 miles through Quincy early tomorrow morning. Partly because all this week, I have not slept as I should, and the accumulated lack is towering over my ability to articulate, to work well with others, to desire others.
Last night I hung with my dear friend (the Professor) and the Thursday Michiganites near Harvard Square, roofing it until late, then biked the 6 miles home well after midnight and inhaled a bag of peanut butter M&Ms upon my return, to recover.
But the other nights were no excuse. No late gym visits. No late meetings. No desperate projects to finish. No scintillating chats ... with HBI .... with anyone.
(I tell the truth on that last one, ye non-believers.)
No. I just didn't want to go to bed. I wanted to websurf and eat almonds and listen to jazz on WGBH and empty the dishwasher. Then it would kinda sorta be about 1:45 a.m. And I'd open a can of Fresca and recline on top of the bed, invite the cats to join, and do a reading run through last week's New Yorker, usually with help from a frozen fudge bar.
In writing this tonight I almost Googled "purposely staying up on weeknights" and "needing to sleep early on a Friday night" and "unresolved personal issues and / or relative lack of life direction" to see if perhaps some therapist had a website for treating not inability, but unwillingness to sleep, and they could tell me how to get my act together.
I almost feel like a petulant child, here. Being bad for myself. For no reason.
Why I'm doing this? Worth exploring. Stay tuned ... after I get some sleep.
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