I can see that tonight is going to be one of those nights. I tried. I really did. I had a sensible glass of wine before bed, even tried my new Counting Meditation trick, but I still couldn't fall asleep. If you haven't fallen asleep by 3:30am after hours of laying in bed, you might as well just embrace it. That's what grandma always said.

So, here I am, 3:47am in the morning, sitting naked at my computer, with a beer, thinking about cooking ramen ... I've been up for almost 20 hours now. The more I think about it, the more I want the ramen. Okay, it's ramen time....

4:13am: The ramen thing was probably the best idea I've had since...ever. If I were the kind of guy to count calories, I would have counted 480 calories (210 of it from fat).

Not being able to sleep sucks. A lot. Perhaps a poem would best convey the madness of sleeplessness (written when I was in 10th grade, which begs the question: what kind of god would do this to an already developmentally stunted angsty teenager?):

3am in your kitchen
nothing worth eating
even though you’re starving

330am in your kitsch den
TV on with nothing worth watching
deranged insomniac laughing

345am in your garden
the grass is still growing
waiting for someone to do the mowing

400am in the garage
the car has not been stolen
return to what you were doing

4:37am lying in bed
the time of night you dread
when you’re probably better off dead.

Not being able to sleep sucks. But staying up super duper late is a pretty fun consolation prize.

Today, I spent my Saturday afternoon mending a tear in my work shirt and listening to Nirvana.

It's official. I am in love with Kristen Bell.

Apologies to the cute girl at table 7 for spilling sweet and sour pork down your cleavage (but maybe you shouldn't be going bra-less in spaghetti straps to a family dinner) (and maybe I shouldn't have had 3 screwdrivers during my shift). I'm so sorry.

The Illusion of Choice

I woke up to my mother calling me on the phone. She was crying. I asked her to stop , but she wouldn't. I asked her what was wrong, but she would only sob louder in response. Eventually, I got tired of listening to her, so I hung up. She called me back a few minutes later, and after some exasperation, I answered the phone. Apparently

You can't trust someone who is too honest. Why not? Because the day may come when that honesty will have to be used against you.

I took a cold shower today, just to see if I could still do it. It was refreshing, like choosing to walk in a rainstorm (which I also did today).

Protip: Furikake tastes good on everything. Everything.

I woke up this morning and was figuratively frozen to my bed. It was so cold and I was under dressed and my blanket was so thin, I didn't want to move. I had created a delicate cocoon of warmth in my bed, and if I broke the barrier by a millimeter I would be rudely shocked by the icy shock of cold sheets and blanket. Too tired to challenge the weather, I was stuck in a rather uncomfortable fetal position for about an hour before I gathered the strength and mental fortitude to break out of my prison of cold linens and make myself a cup of tea.

Today, on the side of the road, I saw a woman dressed as the Statue of Liberty sign-waving for a tax-filing service called Liberty Tax Service. She even had a torch and foam crown. I died a little inside.

Sometimes, I think too much. I wish I could sleep.

Sadness in the eyes of a too tall, too pretty, too young teenage girl. what a world.

I know that somebody somewhere is enjoying a hot cup of coffee right now. and that makes me happy.