Obsession – Not by Calvin Klein

To obsess, that is my life.

Nothing in my life ever happens without lots of thought invested. Thought before, like “what if?” and thought after, like “what the fuck?” or “why?”

This state of mind is paralyzing to say the very least. And it has molded my life. Oh yes, it has.

Contrary to popular opinion by the medical community, I must read myself to sleep because if I turn the light off before I reach the point where I can no longer keep my eyes open another moment, I will lay and stew in all the bad mistakes I’ve made, reliving each one of them in vivid Technicolor. Or if something is pending, even something little and of no account, I’ll ponder what the thousand potential outcomes are.  And if somehow, for whatever reason, even though I am dropping the book –actually now it would be my Kindle–onto my face from exhaustion, if I turn that light off a second too soon, then my mind starts spinning out horrific situations in which I am the starring character.

But this obsessive behavior doesn’t just disturb my sleep patterns, it affects my every move. Should I have let the old lady go ahead of me? Should I just ignore the asshole drivers on the road? Should I change jobs? Does my manager want me to change jobs? Did I do the right thing? What could I have done better? Why did I act the way I did?

Should I have written this post? Do I want to expose myself to the world like this? Will others find me disturbing or pathetic? Or sad? Or boring? Will they think me a self-involved asshole/moron/waste-of-space?

This post was mentally spawned by Today’s Daily Post, Verbal Confirmation: To be, to have, to think, to move — which of these verbs is the one you feel most connected to? Or is there another verb that characterizes you better?


Today at BlackBeary Condo – Stones Concert

IMG_20140214_100544It’s 3am at BlackBeary Condo, the perfect time for BlackBeary to sing the songs of her people. The quiet hallway allows her perfect pitch to resonate all through the condo, thus providing maximum appreciative value to anyone who can hear her.

“I don’t get all the naps that I want. I don’t get all the treats that I want.”


“But if I sing all night,”


“My human might”

“Oh geeze, not again.”

“Finally do what I want.”

“BlackBeary! Please stop that.”

“I don’t get all the naps that I want. I don’t get all the treats that I want. But if I sing all night….”

When BlackBeary hears her human sigh and rustle the covers, probably pulling her pillow over her head, as she is wont to do, BlackBeary decides to nap for a few moments. To rest her voice. There’s still time. The next round will start in about a hour, as soon as her human has drifted off to sleep again.




To Sleep, Perchance to Dream…Wait, I’d be Happy to Just Sleep

Today, thUntitlede WordPress Daily Post mentioned “sleep procrastination”.  I don’t think I procrastinate at night. I know that my brain’s not on a 24-hour schedule. There are nights when I’m literally awake all night, and I’m well into the next day before I get sleepy.  I’ve been to several doctors and every damn one of them gives me the same lecture. Don’t read in bed. Don’t go to bed until you’re sleepy. Don’t this… Don’t that.

And you know what, these platitudes do not work for me. I’m a night person living in a day-oriented-work world.

I tried the “stay in the living room until your sleepy” bit. I fell asleep on the sofa, and as soon as I got up to go to bed. I was wide awake, again.

I tried turning off the light and just laying there, waiting to fall asleep, because everyone knows that if you just turn off the light, you’ll fall asleep. Problem is that when I turn off the light before I’m sleepy, my mind starts doing mental gymnastics, thinking about everything I ever did that was wrong or bad or stupid. If that isn’t enough to wake someone up, I don’t know what is.

I haven’t written in a while because by the time I’m ready to write, usually around 2am, I’m supposed to already be asleep or at least winding down, because I have to get up in a few hours and be functional in a 9-5 soul-sucking job. So at night when it’s time to go to bed, I climb in bed, and I read, and read, and read, until the Kindle is falling on my face. [BTW, the Kindle doesn’t hurt nearly as much as a hardback hitting me in the face.] But my doctor says that reading in bed is bad for me. I call foul. At least I get to the point where I can sleep if I read in bed.

I am not everyone else. I don’t believe that one size fits all, and I especially don’t believe there’s only one solution to a problem.

The solution to my problem is a job that’s flexible enough for me to sleep when I can. Something like an author. I just gotta get there.