It's always impresses me how quiet my apartment building, and the surrounding neighborhood are at 4:00 Am. I live one block west of Denman Street in downtown Vancouver - a fairly main street, 4 blocks from the beach, the strip, and such, but once you cross Denman, westwardly towards Stanley Park, it's a completely different deal. No traffic noise. No sounds of the bums & dumpster divers dragging their shopping carts in an endless procession up and down the back alleys, No sound of anything, really.
The reason I know this, is because I went to bed around midnight and 2 hours later, it appears I'm up for the duration. I tried reading myself back to sleep (which, if any of you might have slept with me at anytime over the last 20 years, you'd know it's usually fail-safe, and a bone of contention to any and all sleeping partners) and yet nothing. So after an hour of tossing & turning (I'm reading Cormac McCarthy's "The Road, which in its own is depressing enough to keep anyone awake) but it's not just that. Another hour went by, and I tried a sleeping pill which I rarely, if ever do. I had some left over from my last overseas trip - and nothing. So, I pulled out the big guns, a steaming hot mug of Neo-Citran - and nothing. So now it's 4:15 AM, and I'm resorting to some very good 18 year old scotch. If this doesn't work, I'm going to be at my wits end. The only thing even remotely comforting about this, is that eventually, the scotch will kick in sometime within the next 20 hours or so, I should be getting some sleep. Hangover most probably included.
I have a considerable amount on my mind. I suppose this is just the way my subconscious deals with it. This would be much easier though, if it would do it at 1:00 PM, but then again, I'd be missing out on sitting in my living room with candles going at 5:00 AM, with all my windows open on an eerily quiet night, listening to Joe Purdy sing "Wash Away".
The reason I know this, is because I went to bed around midnight and 2 hours later, it appears I'm up for the duration. I tried reading myself back to sleep (which, if any of you might have slept with me at anytime over the last 20 years, you'd know it's usually fail-safe, and a bone of contention to any and all sleeping partners) and yet nothing. So after an hour of tossing & turning (I'm reading Cormac McCarthy's "The Road, which in its own is depressing enough to keep anyone awake) but it's not just that. Another hour went by, and I tried a sleeping pill which I rarely, if ever do. I had some left over from my last overseas trip - and nothing. So, I pulled out the big guns, a steaming hot mug of Neo-Citran - and nothing. So now it's 4:15 AM, and I'm resorting to some very good 18 year old scotch. If this doesn't work, I'm going to be at my wits end. The only thing even remotely comforting about this, is that eventually, the scotch will kick in sometime within the next 20 hours or so, I should be getting some sleep. Hangover most probably included.
I have a considerable amount on my mind. I suppose this is just the way my subconscious deals with it. This would be much easier though, if it would do it at 1:00 PM, but then again, I'd be missing out on sitting in my living room with candles going at 5:00 AM, with all my windows open on an eerily quiet night, listening to Joe Purdy sing "Wash Away".
0 comments:
Post a Comment