the lost man chronicles

the loony pull

how about–curb this enthusiasm?

admittedly, i have absolutely no idea what that refers to, for i've only seen the bus-stop posters, and i'm completely ign'rant when it comes to contemporary culture.

but all i know is that i've got to curb somethin', 'cause this insomnia is going to drive me loony otherwise.

the mind's been running high-speed along the information highway of my imagination lately, and so i haven't slept much.

this morning i woke up at two. by 2:30 i had exhausted my efforts to fall back asleep, so i got up, figuring i could take a big chunk out of the art of happiness.

weary-eyed and about twenty pages later, i look up at the stove-top clock—3:45—and decide i'd had enuf already of howie and the ding-dong lama-lama, and i decide to begin my work-out an hour early. at 5:00, i'm in the shower, and half an hour later i'm out the door.

now, i'm just waiting for my body to rebel and punish me for my unbridled enthusiasm.

on the stoop outside i pause to look up and see the pre-menstrual Moon shining suspiciously down on me. She's smiling, half-smirkin', working that tidal pull to get my full attention.

and then, then i realize what's been happening here. rolling my eyes up at Her, i speak in a muttered breath, "oh, i get it…if YOU can't sleep, neither can i, which is why you keep piquing me, so that i don't get a wink in edgewise."

great. just great.

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