baggage's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Yawn... I've been depriving myself of dreams lately. The last week has been a blur of gigs, deadlines and romantic arguments-and I've had to sacrifice a few things out of my normalcy to make room for the noise echoing through my life. One of these sacrifices being sleep. In college, I had this ingenious plan to slowly deprive myself of sleep over time-say wake up fifteen minutes earlier per week-until my body and mind could function normally with only two or three hours of shut-eye instead of eight. I figured my productivity would increase exponentially over time, and that, once in my 30s, I would have this well-toned mental physique that would barely need sleep. I was going to be the Mr. Universe of the mental world. The Amazing Asian who never sleeps. I would work eight hours a day, sleep for say 2 hours, and get up to play guitar. Maybe learn to paint in oils. Or write a book. Or cook. Or raise livestock. Whatever. Mine were big plans. Ahhh, the sweet naivete of the young 20-something mind is, in this case, synonymous with stupidity. Because next week I'll be 33, and I can say, without reservation, that the ingenious sleep-deprivation experiment from my 20s is a dismal failure. I was driving down the Cajon Pass last night with the weight of dreams resting on my eyelids. Thankfully, it was just past midnight-and I knew that I would most likely be in bed and snoozing before 1 a.m. This is early for me, people. I don't think I've been to bed before 2 a.m. since Tuesday. And, unfortunately, day to day responsibilities don't stop just because I was bopping around on stage like an idiot past midnight on the night previous. So last night, once all the gear was safely back in my garage, the fish was fed, and the next door's neighbors mail was picked up (they're in Hawaii the lucky punks), my mind was looking hungrily at the pillow. I think I was asleep before my eyes were closed. And, even more wonderful than getting a decent amount of sleep is waking up on a sunny Sunday morning with nothing planned. Maybe, I'll garden, Maybe, I'll go for a walk. Or, maybe, I'll just lay underneath a tree and immerse myself in solitude. I've been surrounded by noise all week-and now all I want to hear is silence. Goodnight. 12:14 p.m. - 2001-03-25 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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