Insomnia is Short for IN SO MANY WAYS...WOW
My watch tells me it's 2:47 in the morning. So what in the name of God am I still doing up? Me, the one who sleeps in on everone else during sleepovers, me whose senses automatically turn into hibernate mode at the stroke of midnight, ME!What could have happened today that caused my adrenaline to go into overdrive and thus prevent me from succumbing into deep, undisturbed slumber?
Let's see. I woke up rather late, then decided to get a haircut once and for all after lunch. Took a bath, dressed up, had lunch, went to the salon where my stylist (who suspiciously looked like Mystica---WHAAAAAT!)proceeded to ever so gently and cautiously chop my hair until the whole salon (or my booth at least) resembled a shedding sasquatch's cave.
Afterwards I decided it was too early to go home--after all, I did not wake up and get dressed just to sit in a chair for half an hour! So I decided to go to the mall and vent out all the summer UV's I absorbed through what I do best when bored or under pressure--SHOPPING!
I arrived at the mall, climbed up and down what was seemingly a Mt. Everest of an overpass, got inside the mall, got a couple of magazines and plopped myself down, a slice of apple pie on one hand and a tumbler of iced mocha on the other.
Afterwards I went to one of my favorite places--the bookstore. I was feeling kinda artsy-fartsy and wanted to buy a huge piece of canvas to later pour all my emotions into. Unfortunately, my search for a true Frida Kahlo moment was hindered by the shortage of a few hundred bucks. Man, what's canvass made out of these days anyway, gold? (I actually had that kind of moolah a mere 5 minutes ago, but I saw this cute blouse I just couldn't resist buying. So there).
But the lack of finances did not mean a lack of ingenuity. I got myself a couple of boxes of colored chalk to grafitti my bedroom walls with (I later found out that my walls were adamantly resistant to such kind of desecration). Then as I was heading of into the taxi line, my eye caught a lovely pair of wrap sunglasses. My inner Carrie Bradshaw kicked in and I left the building with just enough cash to take me home. I swear, if I keep this up, I'd be wallowing in debt for the rest of my poor, penniless existence.
I got home and it was hot. Nay, it was sweltering. Worse, my A/C filter morphed into a dustbunny version of spongebob squarepants. So I had to clean it and let it dry for at least 30 minutes before I could switch my lifesaver on. Drats!
My creative juices were struggling to be released. So, in my oven toaster of a bedroom, I let them flow. Once, twice, three times. Four, until at last I was satisfied. It took me 3 hours, one missed dinner and an almost-spat with my grandpa.
And then HE called. Twice, but my phone was on silent and I was then immersed into my brand-new sketch pad that I missed it. He called. Twice. I missed it. Twice. I was on the verge of strangling myself when a friend confirmed that it was, indeed, HIM. Him. My guy, as Whoopi Goldberg said. My ain true love, according to Sting. The Patrick Starfish to my lovestruck Spongebob Squarepants.
As I thought cupid had finally given up on my hopeless little heart, my phone rang again. It was like the Vienna boys' choir in concert, or angels singing up in the heavens (Actually, more like cicadas making noise atop the trees, but we're going poetic here). I picked up the phone, took a deep breath and, with feigned cool that would make the Ice Queen proud, said hello.
The entire conversation was a blur. Still is a blur. All I could remember was him thanking me for the help on a previous matter, then him saying goodnight. In my daydreams, it would have been dialogue that would put Romeo and Juliet to shame, but heck, this was fact and not fiction. Welcome to the real world, said John Mayer.
So I guess that's why I can't friggin' sleep. It was not just that particular moment, it was the whole day. A whole day of adrenaline, endorphins, a caffeine shot and pure sugar rush. Insomnia due to, well, in so many ways...WOW. What a day.
PS Someday I know I'll look back at this post and laugh. Or maybe be so embarassed that I'll delete it and pretend it never happened--just that one day, in the wee hours of the morning, I couldn't sleep. Sure beats counting sheep.
Let's see. I woke up rather late, then decided to get a haircut once and for all after lunch. Took a bath, dressed up, had lunch, went to the salon where my stylist (who suspiciously looked like Mystica---WHAAAAAT!)proceeded to ever so gently and cautiously chop my hair until the whole salon (or my booth at least) resembled a shedding sasquatch's cave.
Afterwards I decided it was too early to go home--after all, I did not wake up and get dressed just to sit in a chair for half an hour! So I decided to go to the mall and vent out all the summer UV's I absorbed through what I do best when bored or under pressure--SHOPPING!
I arrived at the mall, climbed up and down what was seemingly a Mt. Everest of an overpass, got inside the mall, got a couple of magazines and plopped myself down, a slice of apple pie on one hand and a tumbler of iced mocha on the other.
Afterwards I went to one of my favorite places--the bookstore. I was feeling kinda artsy-fartsy and wanted to buy a huge piece of canvas to later pour all my emotions into. Unfortunately, my search for a true Frida Kahlo moment was hindered by the shortage of a few hundred bucks. Man, what's canvass made out of these days anyway, gold? (I actually had that kind of moolah a mere 5 minutes ago, but I saw this cute blouse I just couldn't resist buying. So there).
But the lack of finances did not mean a lack of ingenuity. I got myself a couple of boxes of colored chalk to grafitti my bedroom walls with (I later found out that my walls were adamantly resistant to such kind of desecration). Then as I was heading of into the taxi line, my eye caught a lovely pair of wrap sunglasses. My inner Carrie Bradshaw kicked in and I left the building with just enough cash to take me home. I swear, if I keep this up, I'd be wallowing in debt for the rest of my poor, penniless existence.
I got home and it was hot. Nay, it was sweltering. Worse, my A/C filter morphed into a dustbunny version of spongebob squarepants. So I had to clean it and let it dry for at least 30 minutes before I could switch my lifesaver on. Drats!
My creative juices were struggling to be released. So, in my oven toaster of a bedroom, I let them flow. Once, twice, three times. Four, until at last I was satisfied. It took me 3 hours, one missed dinner and an almost-spat with my grandpa.
And then HE called. Twice, but my phone was on silent and I was then immersed into my brand-new sketch pad that I missed it. He called. Twice. I missed it. Twice. I was on the verge of strangling myself when a friend confirmed that it was, indeed, HIM. Him. My guy, as Whoopi Goldberg said. My ain true love, according to Sting. The Patrick Starfish to my lovestruck Spongebob Squarepants.
As I thought cupid had finally given up on my hopeless little heart, my phone rang again. It was like the Vienna boys' choir in concert, or angels singing up in the heavens (Actually, more like cicadas making noise atop the trees, but we're going poetic here). I picked up the phone, took a deep breath and, with feigned cool that would make the Ice Queen proud, said hello.
The entire conversation was a blur. Still is a blur. All I could remember was him thanking me for the help on a previous matter, then him saying goodnight. In my daydreams, it would have been dialogue that would put Romeo and Juliet to shame, but heck, this was fact and not fiction. Welcome to the real world, said John Mayer.
So I guess that's why I can't friggin' sleep. It was not just that particular moment, it was the whole day. A whole day of adrenaline, endorphins, a caffeine shot and pure sugar rush. Insomnia due to, well, in so many ways...WOW. What a day.
PS Someday I know I'll look back at this post and laugh. Or maybe be so embarassed that I'll delete it and pretend it never happened--just that one day, in the wee hours of the morning, I couldn't sleep. Sure beats counting sheep.
posted by anj at 12:36 PM
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