Okay, so here's the thing about insomnia. It sucks. You can be dead exhausted but no matter how long you long you lie there, nothing even remotely resembling sleep occurs. I thought I'd kicked it yesterday when I found a shirt and covered my eyes with it. Passed right out. Today I try the same. It worked for a while, I slept maybe an hour or two but then the scratching started. Kinsey, our cranky orange tabby decided that she HAD to be inside the bedroom and no door was going to stop her. First she scrapes the door, meows a bit. All stuff you can ignore. But then the real alarming sound: that digging, gouging scratching into the carpet that no matter how much you hate for aggravating your allergies with all it's dust and crap, you can't do anything about getting rid of it because it's not yours and if the cats keep at it you'll lose your damage deposit!
So in that heavily altered state that only two hours of sleep can put you in, you drag your screaming muscles to the door and let the little bugger in. Ah, it's over you think, you can get back to sleep now, but no. Now she's pacing around your head and mewling for attention! Sleep is officially out of reach because some part of your brain suddenly clicks into wake mode and starts THINKING.
THIS is the real culprit behind insomnia, not the scratching cats, or the birds outside or the neighbours downstairs who just can't have quiet sex and insist that everyone on the block knows just who the daddy is, no it's that little nagging voice in your head that can't stop babbling to itself like some toddler on a kool-aid high.
How do I network the old computer to the new one so I can transfer information without unhooking the monitor each time? I should go out to that dollhouse shop in North Van and find some crown moulding, maybe some wainscotting and while I'm there I should look into redoing the porch posts. So why DID Martha lie to cover up a crime she didn't commit? I need to install the Wacom software on the new machine because Robin is coming over to learn Photoshop this afternoon. The scanner is so old that it isn't recognised by Windows XP. What the hell do I do if she wants to scan something?! I'll just have to hook everything back into the old machine! So what's the point of hooking up the tablet then?! I need to do buy another pair of jeans. I spilled gingerale on my only pair last night. I need to do laundry so I have something to wear when Robin comes over! Shit! What was the name of that movie with that kid who stops talking to protest nuclear weapons? Something Somone and someone. Why am I thinking there's a flamingo in the title? There was a football guy in it, or was it basketball? And he dies in a plane crash that may have been caused by the CIA... what was the name of that girl who wrote the letter to Gorbachev protesting nuclear weapons? Samantha something. She died in a plane crash too. Or was it Breshnev? Dumb nuclear weapons. Dumb CIA. The Girl Who Owned a City isn't as much fun to read as it was when I was a kid. Was there some weird agenda on part of the author there? Something about private cities and earning values and militias? Dumb seventies social theoreticians corrupting young minds with weird libertarian propaganda disguised as cheesy post apocalyptic fantasy. I don't care if I am mean, Martha Stewart is a bitch. I need to start seeding the Tiny Tim tomatoes. And all that Lobelia needs to get put in. I have to figure out how to keep those fucking squirrels out of the Lobelia this year. Damn, when is the landord going to fix the balcony? It's rotting right through. And then those stupid closet doors. She never came to fix them like she said she would. I didn't push because the place is a mess. I should just yank them out and put in nice Ikea curtains with grommets. Fuck I hate grommets. Damn these shelves! Why do I own so much junk? I'd really like a house. Hardwood floors. No allergies. Lots of room for the cats. Doesn't feel like a damn prison.
Ladies and gentlemen, insomnia.
So I got up and installed the tablet. Whoever thought serial ports work better with tiny screws is just nutty. You THINK you can unscrew them with your fingernail or the edge of a business card but no way. You just end up with ratty looking business cards and dire need for a manicurist. Maybe I need more calcium.
Oh, yes that good news I was mentioning. It's pobably safe now to mention that the contracts from New Line finally came in after months of back and forth between the studio lawyers and the agent. That's what I love about the film industry, everything has to be done right away but regardless of the wonder that is FedEx when someone says you'll have papers to sign next week it still takes eight months to get it.
The producers are all nice people and Brian and I are really looking forward to see what they come up with. Sure there are never any guarantees with these things, it may sit on a shelf forever or have some egomaniac actor type step in and decide that there needs to be a wacky talking dog in there, but here's to hope on this lovely spring-like morning.
*yawn*
Oh yeah, the name of the movie was Amazing Grace and Chuck.
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