Perhaps it's the Chicagoan in me: it can be beautiful but it has to go somewhere.

Perhaps it’s the Chicagoan in me: it can be beautiful but it has to go somewhere.

It is becoming very consistent: I keep popping awake at five in the morning and find myself unable to go back to sleep. I’m still too tired to want to get out of bed, mind you, and I still get tired later in the day- usually between two and three in the afternoon when I most need my wits about me in order to be a rational, functional human being.

On one hand it is getting annoying: it feels like I am wasting a perfectly good hour just because I lack the capacity to fall back asleep. On the other hand, it is helpful to have an hour or two in the morning to get things done instead of going back to sleep. I know that stress is causing it just like I know that stress is causing my twitching eyelid and my sore jaw and my compulsive need to change the radio station all the time while I’m driving. But I’m sick and tired of stress needling me with all these needless¬†and useless discomforts. The discomforts are distracting.

Distraction makes me procrastinate. Procrastination makes me more stressed which makes me more distracted which… well, you get the picture.

I’m also tired of stress being such (LOL- I wrote “suck”- guess that says how I really feel) a common topic in my daily writing: Stressed today. Uninspired today. Tired today. Why can’t I write about all the interesting things that happen to me in the course of a day? Why do I always forget all the cool stuff? Why do I forget interesting details like the fact that the succulent plants on our patio are about to bloom for the first time ever? That there were a pair of tiny baby kittens in cages at the self-storage office when I went to drop off insurance information? That I got to see a hawk being chased by a murmuring of sparrows over the river during my drive home?

Probably because these anecdotes don’t have a point. And that’s OK in the grand scheme of things, but I find that when I write I feel like if I don’t make a point then I haven’t done anything useful.¬†What good is it if it’s not useful? Perhaps this too is a compulsion: a need to transform observation and expression into a tool to fight the chaos of worry and confusion that makes up so much of my life.

Well, if nothing else I’ll have something to think about tomorrow at five in the morning.


~ by Gwydhar Gebien on June 10, 2015.

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