Kitty Angst

I want to write, but I don't know what. I want to be, but I don't know how. Kitty angst is my term for that restless wanting that seems to have no source or cure. Or, put another way, it's when the cat has been pet, fed, watered, let in, let out, let in, let out, and still the meowing continues. Sometimes I get kitty angst. I am going to try and not reflect too much on the purpose of this post (or, for that matter, this blog) and just write. I felt a definite urge to write today, not to create, but just write, document. I think that is a good thing. I haven't been writing much lately, and this urge was removed from a focus on product. I was watching the starlings in the bare tree top, against the backdrop of a dark grey cloud, listening to them chatter, and I wanted to pick up my pen and write longhand in my notebook with red cover. Dive for cover. Cover me. I am censoring a little, self-editing. I love the backspace key. I just realized I had a little (very little) present I forgot to give my mom. I was thinking I'd go into work tomorrow, catch the van at 7:30 and actually go into the office. But then I thought again and couldn't really think of a good reason to go into the office when I could work from home. Next week normality, or something like it, will resume. People will be back to work in the office, including my boss and my friend David, and I will go in and work from my desk instead of home from my bed. For now, I guess I will retire to bed, hopefully to sleep, to lose myself in dark sleep and maybe vivid dreams.

Wallowing isn't all bad...

I'm in my bedroom with the heat on and the door closed. I'm listening to Natalie Merchant's Tigerlilly, an album I played over and over during a sad time, early 2002. I am still luxuriating in having heat after 36 hours of none. When our power goes out, we can't heat the house, shower, or cook. That made for an uncomfortable 36 hours, but many people around Puget Sound still don't have power 5 days after the big storm, so I feel lucky. The houses across the street still don't have power. I have survivor's guilt.

I slept restlessly Thursday night, listening to the wind try to tear its way into our house. Around 1 or 2 am, when we lost power, I looked out the livingroom window and saw the evergreen tree across the street undulating impossibly. I also saw shapes in the yard that looked as if they had once, very recently, been part of our roof. Holy crap. In the morning, Tamar came down the stairs saying, "Someone's roof is in our yard, and I'm hoping it's the neighbor's." "Umm...sorry." Alicia, though, slept through the entire storm; she was really tired.

I came home on Saturday afternoon after running errands (and charging my cell phone while I ate tom kah in a restaurant). Tamar was sitting on the front porch, bundled up and looking glum. I began talking to her and stopped, gasped, and pointed. "I can't look," she said. Then, "is it still on?" It--the porch light, was. I ran into the house to put my ear by the heater. What a lovely sound! Ran back outside to hoot n holler and hug Tamar, who was still afraid to believe. Once she accepted the good news, she saw it like this: I came home and power was restored. I was the reincarnation of Nikola Tesla.

Reduced to Googling Insomnia

It's 2 am and I can't sleep. My back hurts, though I went to the gym yesterday, which usually helps with sleep and back pain. My roommate, A, got home from work awhile ago. She watches tv in the living room. T sleeps upstairs. She will be up early, as is her routine. I often lie in bed and try to get back to sleep. Conventional wisdom (or some kind of advice, anyway) says to get up for awhile. Two in the morning here, 5 am in Columbus, Ohio, 10 am in Ireland, 11 am in the Czech Republic. I am learning so many things related and unrelated to imsomnia! I started to erase the spelling mistake and fix it, but then I found it apt, so I left it. Let's see if we can quiet the internal editor. Caffeine is a stimulant (and a favorite drug of mine; everyone needs a couple vices) and can be related to insomnia. Alcohol, a depressant, can also be related to insomnia, due to disruption of REM sleep and polyuria. Insomnia can result from depression, and from anti-depressants (Wikipedia says they can "alter sleep architecture. "Sleep architecture" is a cool phrase. I want to use it in something.) Dehydration can cause aches and irritation, which can, in turn, lead to sleeplessness. Apparently, drinking 1-2 cups of water can cause sleepiness within an hour or two. It can also cause wakiness within an hour or two (probably just as one is dropping off) and "polyuria". Are you sensing a theme? Many things--and their opposites--can lead to insomnia.