Sleep, be not far off.

It's that time of year, when I can't sleep and can't sleep and can't sleep. I wake up several times a night with swollen joints or a fuzzy nose, or a rumbling belly. I get up. Walk to the kitchen, make some toast, drink some milk, or throw down a couple of blueberries. I stagger back to bed, fluff my pillow, pull off my socks and lay there, wide-eyed. Or I look at random blogs online. Or I read a book. Or I grab my ipod and listen to music or listen to some Prairie Home Companion. Sometimes I email people, but people are always weirded out to receive emails in the middle of the night. 

My room is hot, I feel sticky in one moment, then cold and exposed in the next. I look out my window at the apartment complex not 15 yards away.  Every night, without exception, I see a dude in his apartment playing video games.  I want to yell out the window and tell him that he has a problem and he should go to bed. But I clearly have a problem too, so I do nothing. 

There are some repercussions of insomnia. They haven't been too major, but they are troublesome. I forget that I have done things. I misread important signs (No Parking here from 11am-2am). I have bags under my eyes. I gain weight. I become lethargic.

I try not to complain about my condition. The cloudy feeling soon becomes normal; walking around half awake is my new reality.