I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again:  The worst part about insomnia is not the lack of sleep (although that is frustrating and debilitating in its own way), it’s not the fact that you get tired and suddenly wake up as soon as your head hits the pillow.  The worst part about insomnia is the fact that when you’re up at 1am—or later—it really seems like there’s no one else out there awake, and the one thing you really want to know is that there’s someone else up, sharing your burden.  But unfortunately, the middle of the night is that weird in-between time when it’s too late for my West Coast friends and too early for my East Coast friends. 

It’s not that I specifically try to stay up this late anymore, because there was a time when I did.  I’m getting to that point where I appreciate having the 8+ hours of sleep under my belt, so to be asleep by midnight or 12:30am is stellar for me.  But then I lay down in bed, close my eyes and my brain immediately shifts to warp speed, and I start thinking about all the things that I have to do for work, all the things taking place in my life, all the things I pray will work out and the all the things I’m pissed at myself for or frustrated or worried about. 

Yet there’s no one to share them with.  And it’s like that rant Lewis Black does about people saying stupid things to you—if you have someone there to share the stupid thing with, you laugh about what a dumb schmuck the person who said it was, and it’s gone.  But if there’s no one there to share it with, the stupid thing goes in your ear and enters your brain, which immediately screams, “LET’S FIGURE IT OUT!” and devotes way too much processing power to it, and then your friends find you three days later passed out in your bathtub.

Sadly, I have no friends awake to share it with and let it all out of my head—all I have is my laptop and the warming glow it illuminates me with.  And that will have to light my way to morning.