Still awake at ten past two. It’s not for one with a weak disposition, I think. I am tired, but almost physically incapable of attaining sleep. It’s as if it purposefully eludes me.
I perhaps ate something that disagreed with me, and now secretive digestive processes conspire to steal my resting hours. Or it’s the chill air, blowing through the open windows in a cross breeze. No, that can’t be it. The cool night air is good for helping me sleep.
There’s little ambient noise now. The perpetual low, moaning hum of the air purifier. With it off, particulates invade my sinus cavities and make sleeping uncomfortable, so I allow the white noise of the purifier to lull me to sleep.
I can’t get comfortable. I’m laying in bed, writing this on my side, but my left arm doesn’t particularly care for the position it’s in. My leg also feels abused.
“Fine,” I say to my my appendages. “I’ll move.”
But writing like this, from my new position, is more difficult. For one, I can’t see the keyboard as well.
“You don’t need to see the keyboard to type!” I hear a century’s worth of education on typing molest my ears. Well, I’m sorry to tell you, but my finger placement is wonky at best. So yes, I do need to see the keyboard.
From where I’m at though, all these red underlined words are appearing in my document. To be expected, as I can’t see the damn keyboard. Hopefully, when you’re reading this, all spelling errors will have been corrected.
Twenty after two. Still awake.
I’m not writing about anything, really. My inability to sleep I suppose. I do need to relieve my bladder. (With you in mind, I chose the phrase “relieve my bladder”. The first thought was urinate, which sounded too formal. Than pee, which was too childish. Piss also, but sometimes vulgarity doesn’t serve a purpose, and I’d rather have the full lexicon of naughty words available to me when I really need it.)
So, I’ll put this up, and post it later. Perhaps I’ll get to sleep.