Counting Sheep

I'm still struggling to write a decent entry. It's been so long and I feel like I need to get on here and talk about the latest going-ons in my life, but I really don't want to talk about life. Hmmm...where exactly does that leave me from the blogging standpoint...?

Last night I was having a hard time, as usual, going to sleep. So I went out into the kitchen to get a midnight snack, using my cell phone as a flashlight so that I wouldn't disturb the kids.  I sat on the cold kitchen tile, in the dark, eating yogurt and drinking tea. I sat that way for a long time, feeling so tired, but in an indescribably pleasant and fuzzy way...almost the way you feel after you have taken a shot of a good, hard liquor, and the initial burn has finally passed.  Sometimes I hate insomnia, but sometimes I love it.  There is just something so intimate about having that part of the quiet pre-dawn morning all to yourself, with no sounds other than the clock softly ticking in the background.  And knowing that somewhere in the country, someone else is lying awake too, contemplating the night right along with you...and even if you never see this person, you are unwitting partners sharing the dark morning together.

Okay, I realize that I am over-romanticizing insomnia to the Nth degree, but when you have it as often as I do...well, it just seems like the healthiest approach.