Another day of looking like a raccoon.
Insomnia sneaked in again last night, despite my begging the sandman for slumber. I’m on Sandman’s shit list, apparently.
Sure I could take pills for sleeping, but nah. Besides, they are now discovering that needing eight hours of sleep is a total myth. God love science.
So in this respect, I’m no insomniac. I’m a polyphasic sleeper.
At any rate, I’ve learned to accept this weird (but I hope temporary) cycle. I do things to occupy my brain in these sleepless times, like this morning:
- Wake up. Lie there for awhile, awaiting the return of slumber;
- Get up and make tea;
- Do facial yoga to alleviate the frown crease between my eyebrows;
- Clean out fridge of expired contents;
- Go through every single piece of paperwork in my apartment looking for a password I scribbled on some piece of paper;
- Stare at my reflection in the mirror and look into my own soul;
- Read a few more pages of Shantaram;
- Lie down again;
- Get back up and put running clothes on, run 8 km to a suburban train station;
- Take train to work early (clocked time: 7:08 a.m.)
I am tired a lot lately, but that’s fine. I totally forgive my body for having a little residual freak out. I know it will pass.