I couldn’t sleep last night and i desperately needed to as this week is a huge work week for me, or at least, I hope it is. Regardless, I laid in bed reading a book that has me mesmerized by its prose. I don’t even know the name as the book has not been closed since I started it. I should have been writing my list of desired attributes in a guy like Cremelloquarterpony and Cindy have done, however I don’t fancy writing in bed and waking with a black mustache or other ink tattoos, not to mention ruined sheets.
So, there I was reading as the hours passed and I realized that Attainingme is not normally one with insomnia, I am from the other camp- those that completely pass out and never go to bed until said passing out. I wondered if it was my failure to eat dinner, instead opting for two glasses of champagne hours earlier as I laid in my girlfriend’s bed, grateful for her television in the background to alleviate the pain of writing my bio for my company’s press release. (Yes, I live in an empty apartment on the Island, only my dog and the waves to provide distraction.)
So, then there i was at 2am, having been in bed for 2.5hrs, replacing a need for sleeping pills with a hunch that food would do the trick. I venture into the kitchen. Red wine! I pour myself a 10 oz glass and search for some carb, or sweet, or something that would induce that serotonin-filled calm . . . nothing. Just fruit, eggs, fish, spinach, water, frozen veggies and some condiments . . .argh. I turn the oven on to 400 degrees and stick an apple inside. I then boil water in a pot and drop in an egg.
Ten minutes later I am in bed, reading again, drinking my copious glass of red wine, eating a baked apple with sweet balsamic vinegar and of course, an egg.
I never finished. I feel asleep. This morning-a huge bordeaux glass next to my bed, a cup of balsamic aging not so nicely. Sadly, as I went to pick up the glass, it shattered and my floor was rendered burgundy.
I think of my concoction. And think I am crazy and yet, rather intelligent. For as much as I would never promote my story to anyone I know, I was successful. However, I think my wine glass did me a favor by breaking . . . I should not become the crazy lady eating concoctions like I was pregnant in bed at 2am. Any other ideas?