Make it go away
Greetings little Rubineers. It is now 1:40am on a Tuesday morning and I see no signs of me drifting off to sleep in the near future. That also means there is very little chance of making it into work at a reasonable hour tomorrow morning. As some of you may know, my job can sometimes involve odd hours, keeping me chugging along at all hours of the night. Not this week. No, I'm cruising along in my normal 7:30-4:30 time zone. If this was any other night I would be past out with a pillow under my head and a dream within it. Unfortunately, the excruciating tension in my neck and head are preventing me from attaining sleep-filled zen.
This is one of those times when it becomes painfully obvious (no pun intended) that, as possibly the most intelligent forms of life on the planet (I have my money on dolphins), we have such little control over our bodies. For instance, I know that the ball of pain consisting of muscles and tendons and quite possibly at least one hemisphere of my brain is simply due to over-acting, bitch-ass neurons in the upper part of my body. This happens every now and then and I look forward to none of it. Sometimes it's just a matter of stress. Occassionaly (read: tonight) it's due to a little too much wine. Regardless of the cause, the symptoms are the same: everything that goes into keeping my head upright and my face centered on my head tries to contract itself into a space the size of a quark. (For those of you unfamiliar with particle physics, 'quark' is Latin for 'something really f'ing small.) After a few sessions of this ridiculousness I've learned that my best but is to just get comfortable on the couch and wait the bastard out. That, and over medicate myself on naproxen. Typically, after an hour or so I can relax enough to get back to sleep. It's almost two in the morning and I'm writing in my blog. Need I say more?
This is really my last hope for the night before I call it a bust and start making plans for ways to stay awake at my desk tomorrow. If my calculations are correct, and they always are, writing this will provide an avenue of escape for all the tension currently nesting itself in the soft tissue of my body. It will travel from my shoulder, through my arms, into my wrists (maybe taking a little carpal tunnel syndrome with it) and out the ends of my fingers. It should look something like the scene from Return of the Jedi where Luke is getting his ass kicked by the Emperor ("Now, young Skywalker...you will die.")
But I promise I'll use it only for good and not evil. It is now 2am. I'm going to try this sleep thing one more time.
This is one of those times when it becomes painfully obvious (no pun intended) that, as possibly the most intelligent forms of life on the planet (I have my money on dolphins), we have such little control over our bodies. For instance, I know that the ball of pain consisting of muscles and tendons and quite possibly at least one hemisphere of my brain is simply due to over-acting, bitch-ass neurons in the upper part of my body. This happens every now and then and I look forward to none of it. Sometimes it's just a matter of stress. Occassionaly (read: tonight) it's due to a little too much wine. Regardless of the cause, the symptoms are the same: everything that goes into keeping my head upright and my face centered on my head tries to contract itself into a space the size of a quark. (For those of you unfamiliar with particle physics, 'quark' is Latin for 'something really f'ing small.) After a few sessions of this ridiculousness I've learned that my best but is to just get comfortable on the couch and wait the bastard out. That, and over medicate myself on naproxen. Typically, after an hour or so I can relax enough to get back to sleep. It's almost two in the morning and I'm writing in my blog. Need I say more?
This is really my last hope for the night before I call it a bust and start making plans for ways to stay awake at my desk tomorrow. If my calculations are correct, and they always are, writing this will provide an avenue of escape for all the tension currently nesting itself in the soft tissue of my body. It will travel from my shoulder, through my arms, into my wrists (maybe taking a little carpal tunnel syndrome with it) and out the ends of my fingers. It should look something like the scene from Return of the Jedi where Luke is getting his ass kicked by the Emperor ("Now, young Skywalker...you will die.")
But I promise I'll use it only for good and not evil. It is now 2am. I'm going to try this sleep thing one more time.
posted by The Rube at Tuesday, August 23, 2005
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