12:05AM Off to sleep (Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest playing quietly in the back ground).
1:49AM (nearly an hour and a half before I had left work the night before) Eyes open, as TV clicks off.
I lay their, contemplating the possibility of sleep. The room is silent is black. I'm hot and sweating. My feet are dry and itchy (not diseased, nothing weird). My eyelids fling open. I can feel every nerve ending in my legs and feet - they are unhappy from hours from the past week of walking on concrete floors, and not a single moment standing on a golf course, or on a beach, or on giant pillows -- which would be strange, yet comfortable. My teeth grind. My mind wanders to the work stress of the past week, and the dread of work stress for the next week that has made this month one that the word insomnia has been tossed into my vocabulary over and over.
I turn the ceiling fan on low, then resettle under the sheet - down comforter discarded. "Ahh" I think to myself - this is comfort. Tick, Tick, Tock... Again, my eyes open. Forget it! I must get up and find my true sleep pattern.
Forget the early morning wake. Forget the pre-noon accomplishments, the trip to the gym, work phone calls, internet orders (also work related), that I'd have done before the state workers lined up at Buds Buffet.
Goodbye normal peoples' day; hello my day. Hello Naked Gun 2 1/2 (what a great movie - murderers are funny) at 3:11AM. Hello, 11am (if not phone call inturupted) wake. Hello 6 hours of Daylight. Hello Monday - A day off for people in the bar business. Day off for me = 3 hours of Phone calls, 1 hour of emails.
I can't really call it insomnia. I can't really call it anything. I can't get annoyed, can't get frustrated with myself because I can't break the mold in a day. But I will admit, I miss the mornings sometimes. However, I'm one that gets to watch Naked Gun 2 1/2, Slap-Chop, Total Gym, P90x, and Shamwow!! infomercials.
