Crawling toward Gilead
Oct. 5th, 2006 12:29 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
desperanceS'funny, how you can get lured into optimism. I had quite persuaded myself that I had resolved a lifetime's worth of insomnia, by the simple expedient of waking up a couple of hours earlier, and so crawling into bed utterly shattered. Worked like a dream all summer long, I hardly had a disturbed night.
Now - well, now the punctured nights are back. So are the vivid dreams, which I don't mind so much; indeed, to be honest I don't really mind the sleepless nights any more (the World Service makes up for a lot), except that they do so disarrange my days. There's no point waking at six if I've only slept a couple of hours and am instantly going to fall asleep again, and so not get up till eight; might as well wake at eight in the first place. But then, by definition, if I don't wake till eight then I haven't been at the desk for an hour already, I'm at least one page behind for the day...
Etc etc. Today, it didn't work out badly; I still managed to write a couple of thousand words, and that's despite having to spend an hour at the doctor's (asthma clinic: apparently I am the perfect patient and I do everything right, and I'm on all the right medication, so why the hell is my breath so short tonight?) and being out all evening. It was an interesting day: I invented a whole new villain (and a way to deal with him, huzzah!) and so spent my creative-time writing urban fantasy thriller suspense stuff, then went to the theatre and spent time with wine talking about my play, which is a whole different kind of creative endeavour. Then we saw a production of 'Cymbeline' with the Shakespeare missing, more or less: very physical and very fun, but even Shakespeare at his weakest has an authority that contemporary dialogue lacks, and so the absurdities and general messiness of the plot just get pointed up. Still, as I say, fun; just nothing more than that.
And now, bed; and hopefully sleep, and so up betimes, to watch said villain transform himself into a pillar of (ba)salt. Yom-ti-pom.
Now - well, now the punctured nights are back. So are the vivid dreams, which I don't mind so much; indeed, to be honest I don't really mind the sleepless nights any more (the World Service makes up for a lot), except that they do so disarrange my days. There's no point waking at six if I've only slept a couple of hours and am instantly going to fall asleep again, and so not get up till eight; might as well wake at eight in the first place. But then, by definition, if I don't wake till eight then I haven't been at the desk for an hour already, I'm at least one page behind for the day...
Etc etc. Today, it didn't work out badly; I still managed to write a couple of thousand words, and that's despite having to spend an hour at the doctor's (asthma clinic: apparently I am the perfect patient and I do everything right, and I'm on all the right medication, so why the hell is my breath so short tonight?) and being out all evening. It was an interesting day: I invented a whole new villain (and a way to deal with him, huzzah!) and so spent my creative-time writing urban fantasy thriller suspense stuff, then went to the theatre and spent time with wine talking about my play, which is a whole different kind of creative endeavour. Then we saw a production of 'Cymbeline' with the Shakespeare missing, more or less: very physical and very fun, but even Shakespeare at his weakest has an authority that contemporary dialogue lacks, and so the absurdities and general messiness of the plot just get pointed up. Still, as I say, fun; just nothing more than that.
And now, bed; and hopefully sleep, and so up betimes, to watch said villain transform himself into a pillar of (ba)salt. Yom-ti-pom.
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Date: 2006-10-05 10:06 pm (UTC)Other times I know it.