Of late I’ve been working on a few time-sensitive writing projects that have kept me on the Internet less. It’s good to feel productive again, to trust there’s more than intent behind my goals, but this is the side effect: a brain that won’t shut off.
It reminds me of coping with a toddler. You put them down, thinking, “This will be the night I’ll catch up on my sleep.” Maybe you even get in a few hours. Then your mom-ESP wakes you with a start and sure enough, the scuffling, thumps and light emanating from behind your kid’s door confirms they’ve gone rogue.
What do you find behind your adorable, winsome kid? Well, the precise damage may vary, but in this household it’s been headless dolls, Magic Marker wall art, and most disturbing of all, shredded books.
On the shredded book side of this scenario:
By the way, in case you wondered, if I smoked, I would not look like those ad execs on Mad Men, who’ve singlehandedly made cigarettes cool and sexy again and undone the graphic images, education, and anti-smoking advocacy of the last 30 years or so. (Not that I’ve noticed at all.) I’d be more like Walt in Breaking Bad, whose forehead could be used by geometry teachers to demonstrate parallel, perpendicular, and converging lines.)
2. I’ll think I’m being witty and wise, but for the next 24 hours, a transcript of my dialogue will contain a ton of “…” and “–“.
3. Teenagers are not so tolerant of “…” and “–“.
4. Light-bulb moment here, peeps, and probably the only teachable moment in this otherwise rambling post: Teenagers are not so tolerant of anything, so screw ’em.
On the adorable toddler side of the equation:
1. There’s something rebellious and sneaky about an early awakening. In fact, if I had a moustache, I’d be twirling it at this moment, because I stole three hours for myself. And like the icicle used to commit murder in that long-ago Encyclopedia Brown book — remember? — by the time anyone’s around to notice my crime, the evidence has already melted.
2. I get to watch the dawn pinken the trees outside my office window. Since there are maybe 15 leaf-empinkening days left in the next…195, that feels important. (See? What did I do there? A “…” and two “–” already and it’s only 5:59.)
How about you guys? (And I’ve missed you.) Are you sound sleepers, like the presently snoozing ToolMaster? And if not, what do you do with your wee-hour time? How do you feel about the dawn? Most importantly, if you had a moustache, would you shave it or twirl?