I rolled around in my bed last night, tossed and turned and thrashed, covered and uncovered, sweat and shivered, muttered imprecations at the gods of sleep and sleeplessness.
Insomnia snuck up on me a few nights ago and clamped me in its jaws and now it's shaking me like a terrier with a rat in its teeth.
There are two things that can help me sleep when I'm like this, and I'm without both.
Sex and pot.
The former is no guarantee, but it's fun to see if it'll work. The latter does work, but it's not possible at this place in my life.
In the dark, while I am not sleeping, my mind scrabbles in its confinement, turns endless circles, hums snatches of tuneless tunes, quotes fragments from books and movies, la, la, la, la, la.
Things are falling apart here, but I can't say it's a bad thing. Uncomfortable, painful even, but life does that and I can handle it even if I don't want to.