The zombie uprising begins here.
I’ve been an insomniac to some degree for most of my life. When I was in my early 30s and subcontracting for the Department of Defense, I used to just accept that there was one night a week where I would not sleep at all; I’d just get some writing done, go to the Waffle House at 4:30 am for breakfast, and show up at the office before anyone else.
The older I get, the harder it is to deal with the lack of sleep. For a while, I was able to club myself into unconsciousness at a decent time every night thanks to sleep drugs, but recently, those are seeming to lose their efficacy. I took a bucket and a half of ZQuil last night around 10 and was still wide awake at 3 am. In my younger days, the three hours and change of sleep I got last night would have been fine. In my mid-30s, I feel barely functional.
Coffee helps during the day. It makes it so I can move my fingers across the keyboard in a rough approximation of working. It makes it so I can respond to questions and seem like a mostly normal person (or as close as I get, anyway). The US military turns soldiers off and on at will using pharmaceuticals; I seem to be stuck in the “on” position lately. I don’t remember the last time I had a dream. I don’t remember the last time I woke up feeling rested.
All I remember lately is feeling like I’m running at 30%.
I don’t like giving anything 30%. But sometimes, you don’t really have a choice. Sometimes, 30% is the best you can manage. And I’ve been at 30% for… let’s call it a month. That’s less depressing.
This post is not meant as a complaint, though it is fairly whiny. This post is meant as an explanation; if you’re looking for books, or stories, or blog posts… there aren’t many lately. 30% is not sufficient to write much that’s worthwhile.
So, go grab a nap, you. You’re getting cranky. And by you, I of course mean me.