Late Night

I was tired. I lay down on my bed a little before 8 PM. At 9:15 PM, I knew I wasn’t going to sleep, so I threw the covers off and put my feet on the floor. I turned on the bedside lamp. I was wearing sweatpants, so as I stood up, I grabbed my phone off the dresser and stuck it in my pocket. Immediately, I was notified of an incoming message. The sender was Linda asking if I was free to talk. Of course, I had to usher a giant mob of people out my front door. I didn’t even know most of them. I don’t know why they’re in my house, unless it’s the free booze I give to guests. Do you think there’s a connection?

Actually, I’m always “free” when I’m at home, unless I’m using the loo. Even then, I can text you. Or talk with you. I just won’t video chat with you. Not that you would ever want to see that. Trust me. I’ve seen me naked and it’s something that even I recoil from. Can you end a sentence with the word “from”? I seem to remember a rule about prepositions. According to Grammar Monster, you can. Thank you, Grammar Monster, for clarifying that.

But it’s late. The computer says 1:15 AM. Linda and I video-chatted for two hours. Then I got off the chat and washed about a week’s worth of dishes: sixteen plates, four glasses, one Mason-jar-glass, and a bunch of knives, forks, spoons, and steak knives. No, I never eat steak, but steak knives are useful for cutting sandwiches in half, which I sometimes do.

Now it’s 1:25 PM. You see how time flies for a blogger. One paragraph, four sentences, ten minutes.

I blogged previously about Dry January. Allow me to quote from it:

“It’s hard to say how long my Dry January will last. Might be 3 days, might be 3 weeks, might be 3 months.”

I was fairly prescient. My Dry January lasted 3 days. Then I ran headlong into the reason I drink: sleep. I started drinking alcohol at nighttime because I couldn’t sleep. You’re thinking: insomnia. Nuh-uh, it’s not your standard insomnia. I’m talking about not sleeping for days at a time. I lie in bed, awake all night until daylight. Night after night after night. It ends only when I drink alcohol before I go to bed. Imagine: you’re awake all day, and all night, and all the next day, and all the next night, and all day long the day after, and all night long the night after, and your doctor will not prescribe sleeping pills for you (because, you know: habit-forming), and you’re lying in bed wide awake and you know that a few drinks will put you to sleep, what do you do? What do you do?

The time is now 2 AM. I’ll go to bed soon. Will I sleep? I bloody well hope so. I’ve prepped my body with the appropriate amount of ethanol. If I don’t sleep tonight, I’ll go to the liquor store tomorrow and demand a refund.