Today was almost an entirely pleasant day. It’s been so long since that has happened that it was more than halfway over before I realized what an okay day it was. Bonus: it might be repeatable. We’ll see tomorrow.
N.P.: “All Shook Up” – Robert Palmer
Today was a pretty decent day around The Haunt. Not a lot of writing got done, but progress was made in other areas.
N.P.: “Whacked” – Alabama 3
I watched an hour of something called cornhole today. I didn’t know that it was a competitive sport and I was expecting something very different.
N.P.: “A Little Less Conversation” – Guitar Shorty
The writing shed is now officially a tiki bar. Or at least it’s got an official tiki bar in it. Which is badass. I’m like Don Fucking Draper: minibar as standard office furniture. Anytime anyone comes in, even at 9:45am, you say, “Can I get you something?” and stand up, take two steps to the bar, and prepare two glasses. “But it’s 9:45 in the morning,” your non-writer guests may protest. “Which means all the problems of the day are yet to come,” you retort. “Might as well get out in front of it now, while we still can. Whiskey, isn’t it?” Fuck yes, whiskey.
Sorrym dear reader…I almost got carried away there. I simply meant to say that I have a tiki bar. I also wrote some stuff.
N.P.: “El Paso Sugar” – Lance Lopez
A sober and boring day. Not a single adventure. Wrote a bit…that was good. But that’s about it.
N.P.: “Your Fandango” – Todd Rundgren, Sparks
Went to a gathering in a public place for the first time in over a year. Just a meeting, really. ‘Twas interesting. “Twas also fucking hot. Of course, there was whiskey, which made everything okay.
I think it’s time for adventures to be planned.
N.P.: “Now and Forever” – Gary Numan
Last night was amazing. Got into bed, closed my eyes, went right to sleep, slept for 8.5 hours straight. It was fucking beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that the thought occurred that rather than fight the insomnia, I can judo toss it, and alternate nights for sleeping. So rather than take all sorts of sleep aids and try all the tricks we insomniacs have learned and still ultimately fail to get any real sleep, I won’t even try to sleep at all. Just stay up all night writing and puttering, and then the following night, enjoy the uninterrupted sleep of the dead for a full night. Et cetera. Which is not as crazy as it might sound. The problem is that if I were to attempt such a schedule, tonight would be a no-sleep night. And while I am not nearly as exhausted as I was last night, I’m not so bursting with energy and wakefulness that staying up all night seems like any kind of good idea. But the temptation is there….
N.P.: “I Am The Cool – Remastered” – Screamin’ Jay Hawkins
Didn’t sleep at all last night, dear reader. It sucked. About 0400, I knew that I was fucked. My fuckedness was soon confirmed as light soon began to fill the shuttered window. By the time I said, “fuck it” at 0700, I was laughing about it.
Back in Seattle, I used to stay up all night on purpose all the time. Hayden and I would stay up all night, all the next day, and then around dinner time that second day, we’d each take a bunch of ambien and do art for as long as we could stay vertical. Eventually, the sleep of the gods would come, and then, upon waking completely refreshed and reinvigorated, would come the surprise…due to ambien’s amnesiac qualities, you would have no recollection of the previous night’s art, and would find a fully recorded song or a brand new completed painting…it was like some kind of creative Christmas.
But last night wasn’t on purpose. Last night was due to simple insomnia with a heaping helping of monkey mind which was probably in no way helped by the consumption of rather a lot of southern sweet tea about 30 minutes before I intended to go to bed. Yes, I know, dear reader, it was a total rookie move. But tea can be quite political sometimes, and sometimes, it behooves one to take tactical tea at otherwise inopportune times. And yesterday was such a time.
Staying up all night has it’s positives: sleep deprivation and exhaustion tend to give one a tremendous amount of focus and clarity of purpose simply because one doesn’t have much brain power or energy to exert on anything but the Matter at Hand. And time really does seem to fly when days are no longer separated by sleep. The best part, however, is what I’m about to do, which is go to bed early and fall instantly into a coma-like state, where I will be held by the force of mortality until that stupid star rises in our skies once again.
And now, dear reader, if you’ll excuse me…I am going the fuck to bed. Goodnight.
N.P.: “Up All Night” – The Boomtown Rats
Happy Mother’s Day, maternal reader.
N.P.: “Ball And Chain” – The Record Company
Greetings, dear reader. It’s another blustery motherfucker in The Creek today.
I need to recalibrate my attitude about a certain project by Monday.
N.P.: “Never Look Back” – Imelda May