I'd Like to Write You A Check for Your Unused Sleep

The end of another 80% work week and I’m here to tell ya that starting next week, I am back to 100%. So on the one hand, YAY! I’m working full-time again! And on the other hand, BOO! I’m working full-time again!

And once again, in keeping with the unrealistic faith I put in my iPod and its ability to predict the future, we beseech it: O Mighty iPod! Give me some sort of warning!

Outta-Space by Billy Preston
Red Hot by Jurassic 5
Neat Neat Neat by The Damned
Universal Mind Control by Common
Sunshine Superman by Donovan
Keep the Car Running by Arcade Fire
Treat Me Like Your Mother by The Dead Weather

Oooh. I don’t like the looks of this. I had a friend once – once! – who got this kind of reading and next thing you knew, she was picking political fights at keggers. Something about the combination – the Donovan tune in particular – makes people go crazy.

And speaking of crazy, any less sleep and I'll be eligible for some sort of monthly check from the government.

I've never been a good sleeper. At one point, I actually took a prescription sleep aid, but I hated the fighting-my-way-up-from-the-bottom-of-a-pool feeling when the alarm went off and stopped taking it.

And then one day, after going without sleep for three, I found myself at the bus stop, headphones on, dancing.

It was 7:15, I was at the bus stop, and I was dancing.

This seemed perfectly reasonable to me. I was exhausted, but by God, I had rhythm - and was in danger of becoming the subject of someone's blog.

Area Woman Dances to Music Only She Can Hear - Neighborhood Mourns Loss of Decorum.

When I got to work, the man I supported at the time stood behind me as he dictated.

“Dear Sir comma. Double space. It has come to our attention comma…”

Normally, I can let this go. I appreciate the fact that he thinks that this might be my first job – I do try to take care of myself! – and that I may be unaware of the look of the modern business letter.

Normally, his dictating punctuation would just be so much fodder for lunch-time tales. It's a package deal -- he drives me crazy and I tell funny stories about him.

It's not what I'm paid for, but I saw it as the bonus I wouldn't be getting.

This was not a normal day, however. I’d gone without sleep for almost 72 straight hours; and I responded as any woman under those circumstances might.

I burst into tears.

Poor man.

After ascertaining the problem, he pushed me out the door – Take your time! Take your time! – toward Target, telling me how to spell “melatonin”, where it could be found, and who to talk to should I become confused.

Since then, I have taken one melatonin, every night.

That was six years ago.

But the spell seems to have worn off and today? Today is Day Three of not sleeping; and I am again in danger of finding myself dancing at bus stops or chasing pigeons with loaves of bread.

Let me know if you see me doing anything crazy, would ya?