I don't know what I've done to my computer. I don't care if I figure it out, either. I can't "comment" on any of my posts any more, or anybody else's, anywhere. It is probably a firewall setting, or a blocked network port. I engage in all sorts of strange witchcraft here and must keep my potions brewing. Otherwise, the world becomes a dangerous place. I must keep the garlic hung.
So, as an alternative, I use my work computer. Last night the words "hermaphrodite" and "penises" ended up in one of my comments.
I had almost forgotten what the inside of an HR office looks like.
I had almost forgotten what the inside of an HR office looks like.
Sometimes it is not that I can not sleep, it is that I do not. I awake in the middle of the night and gain a vague interest in something. That is what happened last night. I am ashamed to admit what "interests" me in the darkness, when no one is looking. It would bore most of you witless, and it does me as well. I will often play very familiar episodes from animated sitcoms. They derail my own train of thought, the absurd discourse of others. These shows will sometimes put me to sleep, just by having distracted me - even with all the bombast of their theme songs and unexpected jumps in volume. I have somehow gotten used to it, from hundreds, perhaps thousands, of viewings. Once my train of thought is no more, sleep arrives without my knowing.
If I pursue the other, then the nights stretch out into something that mostly only an insomniac can feel. It is the sensation of a very specific dread, the unwelcome coming of morning, the constant checking, the lost chances. I imagine it to be similar to the time spent alone for a gambling addict, after a great loss. It involves losing a bet with yourself, and the great belief in a fantasy that often never arrives.
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