1 am and all is well

Had a great time today, chatting. It is a rare gift when two people can just... chat. About any and everything. Thanx.

I am juiced. For whatever reason, my body is undergoing its semi-annual metamorphosis. This means I am no longer hungry and cannot seem to get to sleep. Usually takes about two weeks and I snap back into a normal food/sleep pattern. I have been going through this since at least high school. I have no idea what triggers it and it happens usually not more than twice in a year, frequently only once.

So, for example, I just didn't eat today. I finally thought about going to lunch at about 2 pm, but then wasn't really hungry. My boss came to me with a new problem she wanted me to work and that took my mind off it entirely, so I never even left. So, since Saturday morning I've eaten an omelette (around 9 am), a bowl of pasta with some Ragu poured over it on Sunday (around 12:30 pm), and nothing today. I am hopeful tomorrow will be a hungry day. Least I never lose my thirst-- that would be bad.

As to sleep, I am granting that there has been a wonderful outside distraction to keep me awake later, but I wouldn't be sleeping anyway. Got a solid 4 hours on Saturday evening, just under 4 on Sunday evening (and woke up Monday morning early, but very pleasantly). And it is now 1 am, I am tired, but can't sleep once more. The worst is when you finally think, "This is it, I'm tired and can rest." Then you lay your head on the pillow and your eyes snap wide open and your brain kicks in. Most sleep aids involve alcohol or other drugs that I cannot have, even in small quantities. So I just let nature take its course.

The good thing is I get stuff done. I have cleaned three piles of paperwork that desperately needed it. Only reason I stopped is because I have another good sized pile to shred and I figure my neighbors will hang me if I do. Unlike the 3 am vacuumer (who finally moved out!), I do think of my fellow apartment dwellers sometimes. I've written some personal, non-blog stuff, always good. Edited a couple of things previously written. Tried to get my scanner working, realized it was hopeless (one of the belts is broken and it is not worth it to fix), and put it in the newly created "Throw away or give away" pile in my kitchen.

I'd like to pick up and continue Da Vinci, but I told someone I would wait so we could read it together and discuss. So back to either "Once..." (James Herbert) or "Something Wicked This Way Comes" (Ray Bradbury). Maybe some of my left over comics... something more fun than comics has come up lately. ;-)

Now that I think about it, I still have a ton of shirts I could go through and give to that girl at work. She gives them to her mom, who takes them to Mexico and provides them to deserving, poverty stricken people. Some sort of church program. Happy to help.

However, I do not care how late it gets-- I am NOT folding that damn pile of clean clothes. They can sit there lurking smugly at me all they want. I refuse. I hate folding clothes. Don't mind ironing, but hate folding... go figure. If I don't do it immediately after the dryer or hanging, it doesn't happen.

It is funny, though. Calypso doesn't like it when I'm in these phases. Every time I move, she gets excited and runs to my bed thinking it is bed time. Poor kitty, I'm ruining her routine.

I get a sense that this phase will be shorter. Not sure why, but I feel that it will end this week or by the weekend at the latest. The food thing started last Tuesday and the sleep shortly afterward on Thursday night (5 hours). So tomorrow (today) is week one. Hmmm... maybe not shorter after all.

Well, I'm off to either read or sort shirts. Sorting shirts feels to close to folding and putting away. Reading it is.