Monday, July 28, 2008

2 AM and I'm still awake...

...writing a song,
If I get it all down on paper, it's no longer inside of me,
Threatening the life it belongs to
And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd
Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud
And I know that you'll use them, however you want to

2 AM, and I've got work at 8. Well, 0745, to be exact, but what's fifeen minutes but half a lifetime? 2 AM, and I'm still awake, writing a blog, 'cause I can't think of what else to do in these post-midnight hours when sleep is a fickle, fickly butterfly. I don't know where this insomnia comes from; my coffee addiction, perhaps, although I've gone 'light' on the caffeine today, or maybe just that my body can never quite figure out what time it's supposed to be, thanks to my ever-changing hours. I've been up until 4 AM every night for the last week or so, after all; my sea watch schedule is midnight to 4 AM, and then noon to 4 PM. The port watch, for the last three days, has been 4 PM to midnight. I've been sleeping until noon the last couple of days, and why wouldn't I?

So, why should my body shut down on demand, just because my watch schedule rolls over?

I'm still looking at taking October off, although after looking at my accrued leave and realizing that I have about two months on the book, I have to confess that I gave some serious thought to taking November and December both off, and to hell with it.

But I'd probably be stir crazy after a month off, and not having work or other things to occupy my time during NaNoWriMo would probably be a deathblow for my chances this year, seeing how little I get written on weekends off during that time, so I might as well just suck it up.

"In a real dark night of the soul it is always three o'clock in the morning, day after day."
F. Scott Fitzgerald (1896 - 1940), "The Crack-Up" (1936)

I've got about half an hour until I hit that long dark teatime of the soul (to steal a phrase). I haven't written anything on Twilight Exile lately, although I confess that laying in bed, staring at a darkened ceiling, I find my mind running over the story again and again. With bon chance I'll get back to the grindstone come day watch today, although I know it's stupid to keep waiting for extreme boredom to drive me back to the pen. I've been reading a lot, lately - a good thing, although (like Oblivion last month) I've let it distract me from other things I should be doing. Funny, how things so easily glossed over and cast aside during the minutiae of the day nag at you in the middle of the night.

I hate insomnia.

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