Yesterday I complained about the self-important brats who brag about not having a television. These jerks often extol upon the wonders of Netflix and reading. They write more, I suppose, and go to this so-called “gym” to “work out.”
This all sparked a revelation: how do I watch this much television and so many movies, read so many books, go to so many bars, write this blog, carry on relationships, go on dates, and carry out the beginnings of a really nice career path?
This brings me to my next subject: Insomnia.
No, not insomnia, rather, the innability to just turn off the television and the computer and the lights, to shut the book finally, to take out the goddamn contact lenses and go to sleep. I stay up all hours into the night, reading one more chapter, watching one more minute of a movie, writing one more poem, eating one more cookie.
When I finally resign myself for sleep, I am an obsessive-compulsive array of details. The alarm must be set to an odd minute, but not 5. The air conditioning must be on the highest fan speed for maximum white noise. The box fan must be on but not pointed at the bed. The closet door must be closed. It must be pitch black. My arm must be perfectly positioned in the same position under the pillow.
Frankly, all of that preparation is exhausting. The idea of settling into my bedtime routine is cause for procrastination. I take long, hot baths at night. I usually read a few chapters of my book, soak my body, rinse off in the shower, and have to set aside some time to dry my wild red mane. I put off taking this time-consuming bath until I know it’s too late. It isn’t until after midnight I will motivate myself for my soapy relaxation session.
(Why not shower, you ask. Well, I like baths. And that’s a whole other blog post.)
I close my eyes around 1:30 every night. It could be worse. Sure, some nights it is closer to 3:30. But when you’ve got a cushy job that doesn’t require you to roll in until 10am, you end up less of an owl of a basket case and more of a writer who happens to get most of her done in the wee hours.
There is nothing to watch at 1am anyway.