these legs don’t sleep, they party

Like nursing home residents party. As in with leg cramps, aches, stiffness and joint pain. Yes, I’m up at 2 am with the new initiative, “Candy for Pee” (more on that another time, lets just call it an incentive program for nighttime potty training for now shall we?) and my soon to be 36 year old aching gams. I’m going to just pretend that it’s my legs becoming more muscular and less jiggly but then again, I do like to try and fool myself at times. Truth be told, I probably just need more potassium or some such but that’s not as exciting.

I know I’m rambling but did I mention that its 2:30 am and I am sleep deprived? I think I get this sleep disorder thing from my dear father. Up at all hours, sitting up in bed, sitting in the recliner (I haven’t gotten to that point yet but its just a matter of time), getting a drink of water, taking some tylenol, and all manner of other exciting insomniac night owl activities. I’m even considering a peanut butter sandwich right now and I don’t even LIKE peanut butter sandwiches. I am clearly delirious. Oh, hello Prince earworm, do come join the party won’t you? ♫ I get delirious whenever you’re near…♫

Another thing I sometimes do with I can’t sleep? Besides talk all crazy on this blog? Peruse quotes. Here’s a rather lengthy one that I found interesting. I’ll share it with the rest of you WHO ARE SLEEPING RIGHT NOW so that you may enjoy it when you wake up. I hate you all. (j/k really).

It’s at night, when perhaps we should be dreaming, that the mind is most clear, that we are most able to hold all our life in the palm of our skull. I don’t know if anyone has ever pointed out that great attraction of insomnia before, but it is so; the night seems to release a little more of our vast backward inheritance of instincts and feelings; as with the dawn, a little honey is allowed to ooze between the lips of the sandwich, a little of the stuff of dreams to drip into the waking mind. I wish I believed, as J. B. Priestley did, that consciousness continues after disembodiment or death, not forever, but for a long while. Three score years and ten is such a stingy ration of time, when there is so much time around. Perhaps that’s why some of us are insomniacs; night is so precious that it would be pusillanimous to sleep all through it! A “bad night” is not always a bad thing.

~Brian W. Aldiss

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