Bedtime Story

Doorbell rang a couple of hours ago (5:00 a.m.). If Charles weren’t out of town I’d’ve ignored it. But fear that something might’ve happened to him got me up.

Some guy I’d never seen before wanted to know if he could have a couple of beers. Anne, the neighborhood crackwhore, had sent him to ask. A bit beyond the reasonable scope of neighborliness.

I’d been in a deep sleep, dreaming about some mad thing. Usually I’m awake well before five, the interruption left me a little pissed.

Maybe if God is pissed at me for not believing in Him he’s decided to weaken me by keeping me from sleeping.

Several years ago I started waking up very early, between 4:00 a.m. and 6:00 a.m. When I don’t wake up until 7:00 a.m. it seems like there should be a national celebration. It doesn’t matter if I go to sleep at 9:00 p.m. or midnight, I’ll usually be up by 5:00 a.m. Since I work for myself I started going into work very early, sometimes 6:00 a.m. and leaving by 2:00 p.m. There’s plenty to do: price books, catalog, pack ecommerce orders.

Before the problem of waking up too early I’d been falling asleep at the worst times. I’d be watching a movie with Gordon, at work in the shop and my eyes would close and the snoring would start. This was before I had a doctor. It never occurred to me to find out if it was some sort of metabolic defect. Eventually it stopped happening. Good thing since it irritated Gordon and I hated being woke up.

Several years earlier when I was living in Manhattan I couldn’t go to sleep before sunrise. That didn’t last more than three months. Being unemployed it was a minor inconvenience. I’d speed the hours reading trashy science fiction, two or three books a night.

Falling asleep was the problem of my teen years. Initially I hated being in bed staring at the ceiling. Thankfully I adapted and passed the time thinking about number patterns and masturbating. The inability to fall asleep quickly must’ve been an expression of my misery at home. After moving away sleep came easily, often instantly.

My distrust of pharmaceutical companies will always keep me from looking for a chemical solution (although pot will help, since marijuana makes Charles very wacky I can’t have any of it in the house). Lack of sleep would have to threaten my sanity before I’d ask for medication. .