Tuesday, January 11, 2005
In the absence of drugs, insomnia will suffice
During a visit to Las Vegas to see my sister a couple months ago I met several of her weird, junkie friends. There was chubby, slutty friend who was hitting on me because… well I was a new male in the room. Skinny, hyperactive cokehead friend was bouncing around with her screeching, Judge Judy-like voice making inappropriate commentary on everything she saw. There was the quiet, professional guy who melted into the crowd. Though polite and intelligent, there was something in his eyes that suggested should he ever show up alone in a room with me I should arm myself. There was socially awkward, designated driver guy who didn’t seem to fit in, yet was lauded as essential for the group’s dynamic which I attribute to him being the guy everyone calls when they need a ride or ten dollars. It was a very sordid group to be sure.
Finally there was screechy cokehead girl’s boyfriend, Matt. Matt is a thin, young man with facial hair and soft eyes. He wears glasses and has a constant smile on his face that is half stoner’s permagrin, half fun loving and caring, sensitive guy smile. He smokes too much pot, does too much coke, and involves himself in too little progressive stimulation, like study, conversing with intellectual equals, and attempts at life improvement. He’s a nice man, but he has addicted himself to any and all forms of “mind expansion”. When I was there, I was immediately interested in learning more about him...or at least utterly uninterested in learning anything about the rest of them. He was equally curious about me. After all, my sister and I have very little in common, as far as lifestyles go. And the more I sat there with everyone without saying anything but seeming to be paying attention, the more he considered me to be this complex, deep thinking, wise young man with revelations to share with the worthy.
When we were in one of the hotel rooms in Vegas, he was telling me that he’d been awake for over 36 hours. When Iasked him why the hell he would do that to himself, he told me how he likes to subject himself to long periods of sleep depravation. Rather than just look at him like he’s an idiot and start talking to someone else, I decided to delve deeper into this practice. I asked him, with obvious interest in my voice, what it did for him. I thought maybe after a while all the drugs in his system would rise up for a free hallucination or something. Now having an interested party to speak with, he began to tell me that it gave him just a little different perspective on life. Going days on end without sleep gave him a broader view of life, though more shallow and less focused. I was interested to understand this because I am terrible at going without sleep. And now that I’ve been without sufficient rest for several days, I can say that my thoughts are no broader, but that I’m half dreaming all of the time. Perhaps Matt coming to the conclusion that the meaning of life is mint chocolate chip ice cream can be seen by him as incite emerging from a mind unhindered by physical awareness…not retarded gibberish as the result of being so tired you can’t remember which hand is your right or left, and why there’s one in the middle.
Since Nina has taken on this paper route as a form of supplemental income, I have had to alter my sleep schedule so that I can help her accomplish the route’s larger, more difficult weekends. This means that my normal weekday sleep hours of 10.30 PM to 5:30 AM must be abandoned on the weekends for whenever we finish the route (usually about 7:00 AM) to whenever we wake up (usually about 2:30 PM). While I am technically getting a sufficient amount of sleep, I have this constant feeling of weariness and mental separation from the real world. Now add in the travel schedule I’ve kept to Indiana, which has a three-hour time difference, and you’ve got me in a state of confused readiness I haven’t felt since my initial weeks in Air Force Basic Training.
I flew back to Indiana yesterday morning. My flight out was just before 8 AM. However I had been awake since 2 PM the previous day. 8 AM would have been my bedtime. Driving to the airport, I began to experience the familiar symptoms of road hypnosis: heavy eyes, dreamlike thoughts, and loss of concentration. If I wasn’t so accustomed to this happening to me, I might have been in trouble. But I made it to the airport without incident. Once I sat down on the airplane I passed out. I was in the middle seat and I remember nothing of the flight from takeoff to landing. When I woke up I was groggy and had the distinct feeling that I had spent the last three hours snoring and talking incoherently in my sleep, to the annoyance and amusement of those around me. However, I was still too tired to care. I departed the plane and made the zombie-like saunter toward my new gate in Chicago O’Hare. There I passed out again for the hour before boarding.
When I finally arrived in Ft. Wayne I was pretty well awake for a while. Dennis and I made our way to the hotel, and I went to the site we were working at to make initial preparations for the next day’s work. I did a bit of work in my room and then went out to dinner with Denis. If my mind and body wasn’t confused enough, a supper of eggs and bacon at IHOP was enough to have me thoroughly scrambled. When I got back to the room Dennis had asked me to help him with some work. It became apparent to him within minutes that I was sleep deprived and he sent me away after about twenty minutes. When I got back to my room I looked in the mirror. I was pale, and my skin seemed to lack some of its luster. My pupils were constricted and I seemed to be staring at everything I looked at. It was time for some real rest.
I crashed out at 8 PM Indiana time. Since I had been so used to reactivating myself after only two or three hours rest, I woke up several times. Still exhausted, but jumpy I had to pace around the room for about twenty minutes before attempting to go back to sleep. When the alarm finally went off at 6 AM I was ready for the day. I got dressed and went down to the lobby for coffee and eggs. We were supposed to all meet downstairs at 7:00. But that time came and went, and neither of my coworkers had shown up. In addition, the breakfast bar, normally set up by 6:30 was still in the initial prep stages. I asked what time it was and was met with the realization that it was only a few minutes past six, not seven as I had thought or as my room’s alarm clock indicated. So I had a few more cups of coffee and thought I take a minute to write this incoherent ramble about sleep depravation.
I feel slightly high and hung over at the same time. My muscles ache, but are poised for whatever service is required of them. My eyes are heavy, and my focus short. My vision is narrowing on top so that my laptop screen looks like a trapezoid. But it’s probably a good exercise for my body and mind. If I intend to do as much traveling for my company as I’m proclaiming readiness for, I’ll need to be able to work and work well under these conditions. I’m 28. If I can’t handle it now, when will I?
I know that several of my readers count on a certain degree of angst, humor, and arrogant resolve from my writing. But at this point I am only trying to write cogent thoughts in coherent sentences. So to satisfy the masses, let me leave you with this one last point of wisdo…
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Finally there was screechy cokehead girl’s boyfriend, Matt. Matt is a thin, young man with facial hair and soft eyes. He wears glasses and has a constant smile on his face that is half stoner’s permagrin, half fun loving and caring, sensitive guy smile. He smokes too much pot, does too much coke, and involves himself in too little progressive stimulation, like study, conversing with intellectual equals, and attempts at life improvement. He’s a nice man, but he has addicted himself to any and all forms of “mind expansion”. When I was there, I was immediately interested in learning more about him...or at least utterly uninterested in learning anything about the rest of them. He was equally curious about me. After all, my sister and I have very little in common, as far as lifestyles go. And the more I sat there with everyone without saying anything but seeming to be paying attention, the more he considered me to be this complex, deep thinking, wise young man with revelations to share with the worthy.
When we were in one of the hotel rooms in Vegas, he was telling me that he’d been awake for over 36 hours. When Iasked him why the hell he would do that to himself, he told me how he likes to subject himself to long periods of sleep depravation. Rather than just look at him like he’s an idiot and start talking to someone else, I decided to delve deeper into this practice. I asked him, with obvious interest in my voice, what it did for him. I thought maybe after a while all the drugs in his system would rise up for a free hallucination or something. Now having an interested party to speak with, he began to tell me that it gave him just a little different perspective on life. Going days on end without sleep gave him a broader view of life, though more shallow and less focused. I was interested to understand this because I am terrible at going without sleep. And now that I’ve been without sufficient rest for several days, I can say that my thoughts are no broader, but that I’m half dreaming all of the time. Perhaps Matt coming to the conclusion that the meaning of life is mint chocolate chip ice cream can be seen by him as incite emerging from a mind unhindered by physical awareness…not retarded gibberish as the result of being so tired you can’t remember which hand is your right or left, and why there’s one in the middle.
Since Nina has taken on this paper route as a form of supplemental income, I have had to alter my sleep schedule so that I can help her accomplish the route’s larger, more difficult weekends. This means that my normal weekday sleep hours of 10.30 PM to 5:30 AM must be abandoned on the weekends for whenever we finish the route (usually about 7:00 AM) to whenever we wake up (usually about 2:30 PM). While I am technically getting a sufficient amount of sleep, I have this constant feeling of weariness and mental separation from the real world. Now add in the travel schedule I’ve kept to Indiana, which has a three-hour time difference, and you’ve got me in a state of confused readiness I haven’t felt since my initial weeks in Air Force Basic Training.
I flew back to Indiana yesterday morning. My flight out was just before 8 AM. However I had been awake since 2 PM the previous day. 8 AM would have been my bedtime. Driving to the airport, I began to experience the familiar symptoms of road hypnosis: heavy eyes, dreamlike thoughts, and loss of concentration. If I wasn’t so accustomed to this happening to me, I might have been in trouble. But I made it to the airport without incident. Once I sat down on the airplane I passed out. I was in the middle seat and I remember nothing of the flight from takeoff to landing. When I woke up I was groggy and had the distinct feeling that I had spent the last three hours snoring and talking incoherently in my sleep, to the annoyance and amusement of those around me. However, I was still too tired to care. I departed the plane and made the zombie-like saunter toward my new gate in Chicago O’Hare. There I passed out again for the hour before boarding.
When I finally arrived in Ft. Wayne I was pretty well awake for a while. Dennis and I made our way to the hotel, and I went to the site we were working at to make initial preparations for the next day’s work. I did a bit of work in my room and then went out to dinner with Denis. If my mind and body wasn’t confused enough, a supper of eggs and bacon at IHOP was enough to have me thoroughly scrambled. When I got back to the room Dennis had asked me to help him with some work. It became apparent to him within minutes that I was sleep deprived and he sent me away after about twenty minutes. When I got back to my room I looked in the mirror. I was pale, and my skin seemed to lack some of its luster. My pupils were constricted and I seemed to be staring at everything I looked at. It was time for some real rest.
I crashed out at 8 PM Indiana time. Since I had been so used to reactivating myself after only two or three hours rest, I woke up several times. Still exhausted, but jumpy I had to pace around the room for about twenty minutes before attempting to go back to sleep. When the alarm finally went off at 6 AM I was ready for the day. I got dressed and went down to the lobby for coffee and eggs. We were supposed to all meet downstairs at 7:00. But that time came and went, and neither of my coworkers had shown up. In addition, the breakfast bar, normally set up by 6:30 was still in the initial prep stages. I asked what time it was and was met with the realization that it was only a few minutes past six, not seven as I had thought or as my room’s alarm clock indicated. So I had a few more cups of coffee and thought I take a minute to write this incoherent ramble about sleep depravation.
I feel slightly high and hung over at the same time. My muscles ache, but are poised for whatever service is required of them. My eyes are heavy, and my focus short. My vision is narrowing on top so that my laptop screen looks like a trapezoid. But it’s probably a good exercise for my body and mind. If I intend to do as much traveling for my company as I’m proclaiming readiness for, I’ll need to be able to work and work well under these conditions. I’m 28. If I can’t handle it now, when will I?
I know that several of my readers count on a certain degree of angst, humor, and arrogant resolve from my writing. But at this point I am only trying to write cogent thoughts in coherent sentences. So to satisfy the masses, let me leave you with this one last point of wisdo…
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Comments:
<< Home
|
no, no. no sleep. just take more no doz. then you'll be hallucinating AND nauseated. that's a party!
Post a Comment
<< Home
|
Read my Dreambook guestbook! Sign my Dreambook! |
|