Got lots of sleep last night.
I might actually be getting better at this sleeping thing.
Went to bed at aroubnd 6:30 am, woke up at around 11 am because I needed to pee, discharged my water ballast, then went back to bed and slept till 2 pm or so.
So that’s approximately seven and a half hours of sleep. Which, for me, is amazing. Usually all I can mange is five.
I mean, that’s almost the normal eight hours of sleep. Amazing.
What’s next? My dandruff disappears forever? My eyes correct themselves? I finally develop full spatial comprehension skills?
I mean, I even feel good. I woke up feeling good. Whiskey tango FOXTROT.
I woke up to a lovely sunny day complete with the happy spring sound of someone mowing their lawn in the distance and I feel good.
Not great. But good.
The one problem I am having is that I am so relaxed that I am finding it suuuper hard to concentrate. My mind keeps wandering off and forgetting to come back. It’s taking me way longer to write today’s blog entry than usual because it’s so hard for me to concentrate and make the words when I am feeling so mellow.
Honestly, all I really feel like doing is napping in the sunshine.
But first I gots to blog.
I am wondering if I can extract some kind of lesson from this. I mean, clearly I did something right. At least I’d like to think so.
Otherwise, the only possible explanation is that this is the result of some rare random fluctuation of my ever turbulent brain chemicals, and that is way too depressing a thought for such a lovely day.
I typed that as “suck a lovely day” the first time. Sounds like a hilariously mistranlated motto for a lemon flavoured lollipop.
So what might I have done right? Well it wasn’t diet or sleep circumstances or anything like that, Those were the same as usual.
Maybe it’s as simple as the fact that I went back to bed after getting up to pee. I will have to try that again. Normally I get up after five hours or so, but maybe I don’t have to, it’s just a habit.
Wouldn’t it be funny if for all these years, I have been suffering from bad sleep when all I really needed to do was go back to bed?
Sounds like something that would happen to me. I am eternally in the position of the starry-eyed visionary who peers deeply into the void and sees the true inner workings of reality before tripping over his own feet and braining himself against a wall that was right in front of him the whole time.
We’re a curious bunch. us visionaries. It’s like having telescopic vision that you can’t turn off. The ultimate in farsightedness. Or being the blind seer who can see the future but not a hand in front of his face.
I am sure that is how I come across to some people some of the time. Like I am some kind of oracular fool who has all these trenchant and powerful insights that,. on a good day, make him seem very deep and wise… right until I forget my wallet somewhere, or get lost on the way back from the bathroom in a restaurant, or some other typically Fruvine act of cluelessness.
I would have been better off in some animistic culture where I could pass the whole thing off as “being deeply in touch with the spirits” and convinced the tribe that I needed some bright eyed young person to help me with the mundane realities of the waking world so I could spend more time communing with the spirits on the tribe’s behalf.
As it is, I am pretty sure the only way I could pull that off in modern society is with a book deal of some kind.
I’ve thought about setting myself up as some kind of guru. The kind that is sort of like a cult leader but without the intellectual dishonesty or the heavy commitment level.
Right now, time feels elongated. Like somehow the moments of my life relaxed and stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam and that is making time pass slowly in a very positive way. I feel like I have been awake for hours but it’s only been an hour. I feel like I could get a lot done in a small time if only I wasn’t feeling so deliciously lazy.
Oh well. Guess I will just have to lay back and enjoy it.
It’s probably a bad idea to try to capture these moments and hold on to them. Maybe it is better to let life flow unabated instead of constantly stopping to examine what is really going on or to figure out where the river is taking you or just because things are moving too fast and it’s freaking you out.
As is, my life is stopped most of the time. And that’s not good. Life is a highway, not a rest stop. Just ask Tom Cochrane.
It’s my fanatical need to feel like I am in control that gets in the way of a more free flowing and healthier life. I freak out when I feel out of control because then life becomes unpredictable and my sense of safety is so shattered that to me, unpredictable is almost, but not quite, synonymous with instant disaster.
The idea that it can be perfectly okay to have no idea what will happen next is an alien and seemingly hostile one to me.
And yet, another part of me can see how much healthier it would be to have that attitude. But in order to get it, I would have to have much more faith in my ability to cope with whatever comes my way.
Without said faith, I am stuck needing a hyper controlled and predictable (in other words, very isolated) life just to make it through the day.
Sometimes I wish I could arrange to get dropped off at some obscure London bus stop with nothing but the clothes on my back and a credit card connected to around $5000 so I would have to firgure out how to get by on my own for a while.
But that’s a lot of money.
So first, I’d have to get a life.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.