Friday, December 14, 2012

Insomnia and Divine Intervention

I am now at the end of the semester. Please, hold the applause. It was nothing. I was hardly involved.

In all seriousness, though, friends. I'm sitting on my aunt's couch, done with finals and not feeling particularly sick. And I'm really not sure how I got here.

Because, here's the thing. Dinner last night was the first decent meal I've had in two weeks. I've been emptying out my fridge and, for the last few days, I've been living off cheese, tortillas, and oranges. Also, one ill-advised pie shake.

But, because that isn't bad enough, I haven't really been doing well in the sleep area either.

I go to bed. And then I lie there. And think about filial piety. The morality of white lies. Unicorns. British poets. (Byron was a creeper, guys.)

I have tried every trick in the book. I count backwards from a thousand. (Sometimes in Chinese, because maybe that helps? Somehow?) I listen to soothing music. I listen to really boring documentaries, which invariably turn out to be really interesting. I count sheep. I twist my brain around itself while trying to figure out eternity's lack of a beginning. (Tried so hard to understand the Big Bang. Failed.) I write apocalyptic short stories in my head.

It doesn't work.

What works for me, as it turns out, is crying. If I can cry, then I can go to sleep. Maybe it's a chemical thing?

So I lie there at two o'clock in the morning trying to make myself cry. Be sad. Be sad. Usually I can talk myself into it, but two nights ago I ended up rereading the death of one of my favorite characters ever and then watching Bible videos.

A couple times I head to the living room to nurse my insomnia without disturbing my roommate. And almost whenever I do another one of my roommates is out there. Teaching themselves a Jack Johnson song on the guitar. Watching a Korean drama. And I end up reading to them, or we talk about things (I can never remember what) while I force myself to yawn. Is insomnia contagious? It think my apartment caught it.

All this to say, what with my lack of my sleep and actual food, the fact that I got through finals without a break down means two things: There must be a God, and He must love me.

Oh, and guys.

I'm going home!